


Blood Runs Thick

by Rhohel_of_the_Shire



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Vampires, M/M, Prompt Fic, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-05 01:03:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5354996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhohel_of_the_Shire/pseuds/Rhohel_of_the_Shire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In his last moments Bilbo cursed the three armies for this, for his death. He never meant for it to actually take hold; now three Ages later all that he cursed still live. Only they lived with the thick liquid of blood running from their mouths and a trail of innocents in their wake. They have waited millennia for a way to cast off their curse and they found the cure in William.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Curious Start

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a prompt I found on AO3 and it really interested me. So I'm going to write it and I hope you all like it!
> 
> Prompt: Bilbo/Thorin Modern AU setting reincarnation
> 
> A reincarnated Bilbo finds a journal (or a scroll) in a second hand book shop. He quickly finds out that it holds clues to a hidden treasure of some sorts and is caught in the middle of a conspiracy. He starts remembering a past life where he went with a company of 13 dwarves and a wizard to reclaim Erebor. The Battle ended with Bilbo dying instead and everyone else living with the guilt of causing his death. Because of their treatment to Bilbo,they are cursed to a sickness where they live off of blood. (The Dwarves, men, and Elves did not treat him kindly when he Bartered with the Arkenstone) They are basically vampires. Over thousands of years, times have changed the cursed ones changed (meaning they become like men or humans today). They cannot leave their land until the one they have wronged has come back to them.
> 
> *If you include the men and elves into the curse somehow. They did not like the way that Bilbo had bartered with them.
> 
> **Not only the dwarves evolved, but so did the creatures of Middle Earth.
> 
> ***There are others that are reincarnated.
> 
> Paring: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
> 
> Rating: T, can be changed.
> 
> The Hobbit belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.

"The eagles are coming Bilbo, just hold on a little longer."

"This is all your fault! Thrice cursed are you and the others that did this to me!"

"Bilbo please, BILBO!"

~.~.~.

William was a perfectly normal hobbit from a perfectly normal family; sure he may be living alone at the age of thirty-five. Other than that he was a very respectable person, whom was held in high regard. A smile here and a grin there and he could melt the coldest of hearts.

His mother and father were proud of him when they were alive and often encouraged their only son to follow his dreams; ah, he missed both Isabella "Bella" Baggins and Martin "Bungo" Baggins. They truly were the best parents he could ever have dreamed of; it was a shame when they passed all too soon from Middle Earth. Though they were in the gentle hands of Yavanna now and he wished them the best in her Green Fields.

The home he lived in was the traditional home of the hobbit race, outdated it was, but the home known as "Bag End" was loved all the same. He traced the ownership of his home out of curiosity and found that it was passed from father to son. Except for the black sheep of the family: no the Bilbo Baggins of the Third Age died in some forgotten battle and Bag End was passed to a "Drogo Baggins". From there Drogo passed it to his son Frodo, so on and so forth, though over time the home had to be enlarged to meet with the demands of evolution. Or it was supposed to, William never believed that hobbits were smaller than four feet five since he himself was a good five feet six.

He groomed his head accordingly, well as much as the blonde-brown curls could be groomed and wore contacts to hide his too green eyes. His now honey eyes were completely respectable and he was one of the most sought after bachelors in the bustling city of Hobbiton. William dressed like all of relatives expected from him, a white button down and khakis with no shoes of course. Sometimes for flare he would wear a bright red coat and an ascot.

His ears were perfectly pointed and his feet were an acceptable size with well groomed curls on top.

Overall he was one of Hobbiton's crowned jewels.

But there was always something in his life that he felt was missing, something he couldn't put his finger on and it drove him nuts.

Though enough of that, he was perfectly happy to get on with his life and that was how he found himself where he was today. In a second hand bookstore, holding what he presumed to be the missing tome of Ori the Wise's Priceless Collection.

It was truly an accident to how William ended up in the bookstore; he was merely trying to get himself out of the rain when the wind ripped his umbrella from him. Soaked to the bone and in a horrible mood he decided to that it wouldn't be a waste of time to browse the bookstore for its wares. He was always looking for a way to increase to size of books he had in his study.

"Can I help you?" and poor William nearly jumped out of his skin and dropped the book he was holding. There was a man, very old and wizened by the looks of it, and he had such a long grey beard and hair. He had on very similar grey clothing, a cardigan over a grey sweater with a darker grey business pants. William looked much more colorful in contrast to him in that red coat and green ascot. "B-Bilbo? Is that you?" the old man asked.

William was affronted but kept his disgruntlement on the inside; the poor chap must of mistaken him for some other bloke. Bilbo was not an uncommon name so it could have been easy for someone of his age to mistake him. "Nope, sorry my name is William Baggins," he said amicably. He felt sorry for the disheartened man, who immediately deflated when William corrected him.

"Though people did call me Bilbo when I was a child," a boldface lie but it made the elder man feel better. There was a hopeful look in his eyes that William felt bad for putting there, but it was done and there was no taking back what he said.

The man then stuck his hand out and William shook it, nearly wincing when he felt the gnarly hand under his own. "And I am Ian, though you can call me Gandalf," and so Gandalf then picked up a pipe and lit it. Blowing out oblong rings of smoke into the dingy bookstore as William then picked the book he dropped up and kept looking around.

He immersed himself into the world of literature as the soft sounds of Gandalf's radio buzzed in the background. William smiled at the small pile of books he accumulated, some titles included: The Death of Durin V, Lady of Light: Legend of Lothlorien, and The Myth of the One Ring. Then he saw it, the old leather was worn significantly and the rough Westron was written in what looked to be gold.

The Journey for Erebor, the Lonely Mountain

O-i -on o- Kori

William gasped and set down the book he was idly looking into; his fingers reaching out to touch the worn-out spine with awe. As a graduate from a literature school this was a treasure trove of missing literature. There were only three copies of this book, all made by the same scribe in the late Third Age and three different ages later here William was. With one of the three books.

He slid the book from the case carefully and winced at the sticker that stood out boldly, proclaiming the worth of the book to be three dollars.

"You know what they say about that book?" and poor William nearly had a heart attack.

"Do you have to sneak up on me like that?" he asked Gandalf, who proceeded to ignore the question.

"Do you?"

William shook his head negatively, the only thing he heard about the book was that it was worth more than three bloody dollars. "Then you must figure it out yourself," and William nearly dropped the priceless book. He dug into his pocket a pulled out a wad of bills and counted the three it would take to purchase the book; when he finally got the money ready Gandalf all but disappeared from view.

"Umm, hello?" he asked, but got no response.

That ladies and gentlemen was how he found himself just holding one of the few known books of the Lonely Mountain.

So he walked up to the counter and lay the money right next to the pipe that was slightly smoking. There was no way that he was letting this treasure go and with one last look to the store he set off.

Well, the one good thing that happened today was the fact that it was no longer raining when he left the store, The Grey Havens, William reminded himself. Odd, why Gandalf would name the store after the lands in where the elves of old would sail to for asylum, William will never know. Though he had to be thankful that he had the bad luck to have to find sanctuary in the store. Else he would have never found this book.

With a soft smile William was finally able to reach his intended destination, the Gaffer; it was a sweet little cafe ran by the Gamgees. Long time friends of the Baggins family and personal friends of William's; the hobbit fondly remembered the awkward high school days with Hamfast. Now look at that chap; a sweet wife and four children with one more on the way.

"William! Do come in, its about to start pouring out there!" Hamfast's wife Bell cried out. Her stomach was swollen and large, but she never looked happier than she did then. Bell's arms were holding up large trays filled with all kinds of confectioneries, ready to fill the demands of the hungry customers. William hurried forward at took the trays from her after setting his book on the counter.

"I've got this for you Bell!"

"Oh, no need-"

"I insist!"

If he didn't like Bell then he wouldn't help her, but knowing him and his kindness disposition William couldn't help himself. Now he was serving some of the patrons in order to lessen the pregnant hobbit's workload. Every now and then between taking some orders using the notes app on his smart phone William would look over and watch her fiddle with the book.

Bell was not the most studious hobbit in the nation, though even she could see the value in the book with how the book seemed to be made of old parchment. Instead of the copy paper that most books were printed on, this was something she had never seen. "A slice of blueberry cobbler and a cup of chamomile tea Master Hobbit. Does my nerves well," and William looked to the patron he was serving and was thoroughly confused.

This dwarf, he assumed due to the shorter statue of his frame in contrast to the men and elves that littered the dining area, had a head of red hair and a very impressive beard. Though was puzzled him was the golden beads that filled his hair and the scars on his face, but William was not going to let his curiosity make him into an ass. "Very well, anything else?" he asked politely.

"Your name perhaps?" the redhead looked hopeful.

William smiled, sarcastically Bell noted, and said, "Your cobbler will be out in a minute." He walked up to the counter and pushed pass the wooden door that separated Bell and any workers from the other customers. "Last one Bell, then I'll order for myself," William muttered. He gave the order to one of the cooks through a small window and waited by the window with a tray at the ready.

"I'll get it for you now. The usual?"

"Yes please."

The ringing of the cook's bell brought his attention back to his current order; the cobbler and tea. He sighed and put the dishes on his tray before making his way back to the man. William gracefully lied the cobbler in front of the dwarf, followed by the tea, "Here is your receipt, please pay up front. Have a nice day." Somewhere else, William couldn't help but to think as he returned to the counter.

"Nice book you got here," Bell commented as she place some apple tarts in front of Bilbo with some green tea. William nodded his thanks to her and then began to eat his food. He will always savor the taste of the famous Gamgee apple tart; it was better than anything his family had ever made. "Oi! What game are you playing?! We take bills, cards, and checks! Not this coin!" he heard Bell yell out in frustration.

The dwarf merely threw another coin her way then stomped his way out of the little cafe; not without one last look at William though.

"How dare he?! He didn't even touch the things he ordered!"

William could listen to her complain if he wished but the coins that man had given her were no ordinary coins. He leaned over the counter and plucked one from Bell; scrutinizing it and then slowly looking to the book. "Bell, I think this is gold," he whispered as he looked to the same stencils on the cover of the book. It certainly looked the same and the heaviness of the coin had the weight of real gold.

"What?" she stopped her bickering to look at the coin carefully, and she noticed that it was much more different than what she felt during her little fit of anger.

William was confused, and he knew when he looked out the window and saw the man wave at him that something was wrong. There was something happening with William out of the loop and he found that he didn't like it. He left ten quid on the counter and with one last look to the coins he took his book and headed for the one place he could have some peace.

He was going back to Bag-End.

What he failed to miss was the raven that flew across the sky with a message attached to its leg, and the red headed dwarf that made his way east. His mission done for now until he was given a new one. With a swipe of his tongue he licked any trace of blood from his lips; making him seem normal once more to the unsuspecting person.

~.~.~.

He was enriched by the amount of history and information that the book held; the rich history of those from the THIRD AGE! Thousands of years of missing history of the dwarves of the east had been found and appreciated deeply by him. William ran his fingers across the old ink delicately as he read throughout the night and before he knew it he had spent eight whole hours reading the book.

From chapter one to chapter twenty it was filled with long pages of information, written in a dialect of Westron that was hardly remembered. Good thing he had a graduate in both literature and Westron. So William was soaking up all the legend and lore that he had never heard of before from Smaug the Terrible to the establishment of the Dwarven Kingdom after the loss of Khazad-Dum, or Moria. Which William could hardly believe; he had vacationed in the ancient city when he had been a tween with his parents; the stone pathways were filled in every now and then with steel bridges and the walls had deep groves that were filled in with gold.

So reading of the state it had been in before was a little shocking.

Though when he finished chapter twenty he grew suspicious when he saw the next chapter.

Then in the last chapter he noticed a change in the ink; instead of the black pigment of the ink previously this one had a red tint to it. As if it were written in blood.

Chapter XXI

The Treasure Hoard of Thror and Thorin

They, my brothers, had always told me of the great mounds of treasure that were housed within the sole mountain; and yet their words never came close to the actual size of the hoard. It was much larger than actual description and it was said to be the bedroom for Smaug the Terrible, a great fire drake, for many centuries.

Upon entering the mountain my first t-o time to appreciate the magnitude of Thror's treasury seeing as I was being chased along with the others in the Company. Only the Buglar and those born before the Fire had seen the wealth for what it was, before this attack for the Mountain. I digress; there was an impossible amount... this Mahal forsaken mountain.

In the weeks after Smaug's ejection from Erebor there had been an affliction that ailed all of the Company except for our Burglar; even me I am ashamed to admit. Though this sickness was something that affects all dwarves to a degree, its called the Gold Sickness. We lust for gold much more than a race should, Thror included but he took it to lengths that were insane.

Gems of all kinds, shapes, and sizes were kept away and gold poured night and day to keep with the selfish king's demands; his lust for this metal affected those of his line. ... King Thror even neglected his children for the sake of all this gold and it was said that he knew of the dangers for al...d.

As far as I can remember underneath the Gold Sickness was the fact that our Burglar stole the one item that would have cemented Thorin's rule: the Arkenstone. The very stone that was said to drive Thror mad with this gold lust and the one thing that Thorin treasured above his sister and her sons. The only thing he loved more than gold and family. He loved it even more than Bi... it was obvious to see that we were blinded by greed. All except the Burglar and he stole it for the better good, ready to sacrifice it all for us to live. I found that he died in the Battle and his shirt of mithril was buried with him along with numerous treasures from Erebor.

However all of the Company was promised a fourteenth share of all the treasure in the mountain and the Burglar claimed the Arkenstone as his share.

In his Gold Madness, Thorin nearly flung our Burglar from the rampart for trading the heirloom of his people. Though after the Battle of the Five Armies it was said that the Arkenstone was returned to Thorin, but it wasn't even documented in the Archives that the stone had been in the Mountain. All known entries into the Lonely Mountain have been covered except a sole... for air. The treasury was not opened to the public population, which included all thirteen dwarves from the original company.

It is here in this treasury that our sins have been made a reality, and it is here in this treasury in which we will repent. Blood have and will always be spent while in this Mountain, until the very day we are absolved of our sins.

We wait for the cur...ifted from our sp...ts when we see the you...of ...End.

For now and forever we will waited for our redemption.

May we one day be absolved of our sins.

Though as my last thoughts I will say one thing: Damn you Gandalf.

Ori, son of Kori

The Last Scribe of the Lonely...

Gandalf? That was the name of the owner from the Grey Havens! Surely that was just a coincidence! Nothing more than that obviously since only elves could live that long, and he didn't look like an elf.

Though for the most part William was very disappointed to find that many places in the text had been scratched out or smeared when they had been written. Also there looked to be stains in the pages where the Scribe seemed to let his tears fall. He rubbed at his eyes after setting the book in his lap and looked at the time; dear Yavanna was that the time!

He stood up and let his burgundy blanket fall to his feet along with the book; William groaned and picked the book up by the cover. The sounds of falling paper caught his attention to see a dozen pieces of paper fall out. Thinking he somehow ruined the millenniums old book he stooped to pick up the pages only to notice something.

They were drawings; portraits if you will and they all had the titles and names to fit the faces.

Ori was a weird looking dwarf with that bowl cut as opposed to someone as deadly looking as Dwalin. He passed the faces of them from Fili and Kili to the dwarf that he saw earlier that day. At first he looked exactly like the one in the picture and upon further inspection he saw some slight differences. Like the eye shaping as well as the nose structure.

"No, it's just a coincidence and nothing more than that," he told himself firmly, but even he couldn't refute the evidence in front of him. "Oh, bugger me! Of course it's not a coincidence that this looks like the same chap!"

Besides from the myths of the huge and hidden treasures; there was something that was obviously hidden under the surface of this book. Something that he couldn't quite put his finger on. He shook his head and gathered all the pictures together and set them down on the book. The night was well in the middle of transitioning to morning when William went to bed.

Though as William Baggins slept Bilbo Baggins woke.

From the physical world if one were to observe William sleep they would have seen him grow pale before his body twisted in the bed sheets. His breathing becoming labored as his eyes moved rapidly underneath his eyelids. But for William it felt as if there was someone else in his poor head; there were memories of familiar people that he couldn't remember for the life of him.

Faces blurred in his minds eye as did locations that he knew he never visited. Races that were said to be extinct were seen from his point of view and it drove William insane. Though the worst thing was those blue eyes and the tears that fell from them as the dream progressed. For the most part, besides the face all he could really focus on was the eyes.

He found that he loved them with a passion even if he felt a deep sense of loathing to the owner of those eyes. WilliamBilbo was confused; his mind was recognizing places that he was sure was supposed to be desolate. No one besides the Natives of the East deemed it necessary to travel across the Misty Mountains and none of the East wanted to come over to the Gentle West.

His body jerked in a phantom pain as those blue eyes in his mind's eye let tears fall and in his dreams William remembered cursing those orbs.

And to top it all off William saw something in those memories that he actually seen before; the glowing blue rune on his front door, still rounded per Hobbit traditions. It had been there for all his life even when he and his parents repainted the front door the rune had always been there, shining through the layers of paint.

When William, or was it Bilbo, woke up in the morning he felt different, like he wasn't himself anymore.

Little did poor William know that his day out in the city had set in motion a series of events that could make or break him, and he was not ready for any changes in his life now. He was thirty-five and ready for his life to fall into place as it had for many of his own family members; there was no leeway for changes now.

Though there would be.

~.~.~.

"No! NO! Please, please, please, let me leave! I'M SORRY!" the owner of this voice is a rather beautiful young woman. One of the few to venture from her gentle home in Rivendell to see the rugged yet gorgeous terrain of the East. A young human and fresh meat was something that all on the east of the Mirkwood dearly appreciated, and it was a wonder she made it to Dale at all.

She was circled in by a group of what she once thought were dwarves and humans, but were not; though they held the appearance of the races. The poor woman was terrified and she thought that it was something she had done on accident. Then she saw the red in their irises and their teeth elongate in front of her.

If she was going to die then she would have a name, she was called Sigrid Bowman in her last life and Lily Hale in this one and she was killed once by these monsters.

Sigrid will get killed by them again.

Her screams were silenced swiftly as the people collected every drop of blood in her body; it wasn't everyday that a Western came to them so it was prudent that they not waste this opportunity. There was no mercy for the young photographer and there was no sympathy to be spent for her family; they had done this before for millennia.

They'll do it again.

If anything the original people of Dale and Esgaroth, the ones made into this by that curse, loved the blood of hobbits. It was a sickly sweet taste that they loved dearly, if nothing for the fact that it was a short cry from revenge. The years made them mad or insane with a few retaining their personalities or their damned senses.

Bard the Dragonslayer was one of these few; he had been the first to have the curse attack. His daughter was the first to die, then one after another the call for blood became to strong to resist and the people of Dale no longer looked to crops for food. They looked to the ones not affected for food, and then they all attacked.

It was a slaughter, people hiding out and others hunting them like deer; then the Men of Dale realized that the Elves of Mirkwood and the Company of Thorin Oakenshield were cursed as well. They only figured this out when they saw some of the dwarves drag poor Alfrid Lickspittle back to the Lonely Mountain. The Elves they realized when Legolas hunted down this poor woman as she tried to escape their grasps.

This all happened within the first month.

As time passed them by they began to realize that they could go no further than the western edge of Mirkwood or past the Long Lake to the Iron Hills. So when a dwarven caravan from the Blue Mountains got to Erebor in the second year of their curse, the people affected had learned how to stretch out their supplies. Many of these dwarves succumbed to the curse as well, for reasons they knew not. Princess Dis and Lady Gliah, wife of Gloin, had fallen to the curse almost immediately. Soon many of the newcomers were stricken with this and in their first month they slaughtered the other dwarves.

The few survivors that managed to escape had been called unstable for their accusations against those in Erebor and locked up for their 'own good'.

Those that had inadvertently caused the curse were unable to leave the East and the ones that migrated from other lands and caught it could. Gimli was a lucky lad to be able to leave the East in his long years, participating in various battles. Though he had been forgotten about in history.

Though everyone there knew the true reason why they were cursed, and it was the reason why they all loved the taste of hobbits so much. They all remembered the small creature known as Bilbo Baggins, and how he died. According to Thorin, his last words were those of hate and malice; said out of the pain of a broken heart, but nonetheless filled with hate.

Bard and the other kings understood that the hobbit didn't know what he had done but in those last moments he had blamed them all. All three races for causing the events that lead to his death and the greed that consumed them to the point where they were too absorbed to see reason. Some wanted glory and others wanted gold.

All of them wanted something, but none of them wanted the price to pay for it.

The Elven King had reassured his people when the bloodthirst first came that they would find a way to repent for their sin. Though as the centuries came and went even he had come to realize how futile that was.

The King Under the Mountain told his people of their sins and how they would devote their time and energy into breaking the curse. Some prayed to their Vala, Aule, but there was no answer from them. They were left on their own and lost all faith and hope.

Long had been the time they remembered what to was like to drink something other than blood, to eat something other than another.

Then as the Ages passed one after the other and the Sixth Age was upon them; and Gimli was taking his annual excursion outside of the East. Just a two days after his arrival in Hobbiton, now one of the largest cities in the West with Rivendell, they all got something they had been waiting for. Thorin Oakenshield was waiting on his private balcony when he received it.

I planted the book and found Bilbo Baggins of Bag End, now called William Baggins. He is just as drawn by Ori and upon closer inspection he gets rather suspicious at times. Tharkun is still alive and the rune is still there.

If is night terrors are anything to go by, he remembers.

Gimli, son of Gloin.

P.S. these daft Westerners use paper as money instead of good ol' gold.

A gasped was wretched from his lips as he ran his hands over the words to make sure they were real, and that this was not some dream. "Get Balin," and a well hid guard left his post to get the Lord.

For the first time in three millennia Thorin Oakenshield smiled happily.

Bilbo Baggins was alive.

~.~.~.

William was pissed; this was the third night in a row that he had woken in a tangle of sheets with memories that didn't belong to him clinging to his mind like a leech. He was turned into a paranoid man instead of the gentle hobbit he was and he hated it. Abhorred it even.

The dreams wouldn't stop and he would go out to the city filled with skyscrapers to find anything about Erebor, but the kingdom had been silent for three Ages along with numerous other towns and kingdoms. There were little things to learn of the mountain except that every now and then a tourist would go missing or something like that.

Though they had been attributed to the dangers of the more rural East instead of the industrialized West.

Planes never landed in Dale or Esgaroth, instead flying over Mirkwood all the way to land in the Iron Hills. People never talked of the place and it was all but mysterious. No web page held relevant information about the mountain, and there were barely any books written about that place.

So in order to calm his mind William decided to go to the Grey Havens after the fifth night of little to no sleep, only to find that the place was gone. There was no sign of there ever being a bookstore there. No one he talked to had ever heard of an Ian that liked to be called Gandalf.

There was nothing that told him that everything that was happening to him was real.

At night on the sixth day William was sat at his table with a seared fish and some side dishes, and he was going to have a good dinner for a good night's sleep. Though as he squeezed a lemon across his fish and salad, there was a knock on his door. He looked up with complete annoyance, but nonetheless he stood and tied his bathrobe.

When he opened the door he was face to face with a dwarf, not much of a beard or mustache and he looked strangely feminine.

"Princess Dis, at your service Master Burglar,' the woman bowed at the waist and pushed her way into the home.

To William it felt as if this happened to him before.


	2. A Deceiving Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was temptation living near all these delicious hobbits and men, but it was for the greater good as Gandalf said. If he was able to steer Bilbo's reincarnation in the right direction to Erebor there was the slightest chance he would be cured.
> 
> And to drink some Dorwinion wine without throwing up was worth the chance; that and he wouldn't be tempted to drink his wife's blood every other day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story plot is still in further development but I was able to finish chapter two while still planning out the course of the story line. Oh and I figured out how to write the i with accent marks so expect that from now on.
> 
> Paring: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
> 
> Rating: T
> 
> The Hobbit belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.

_"No forgiveness for me is what I can see,_

_But how you may forgive, gives my heart glee."_

_-Fíli, son of Dís and Víli. Crown Prince of Erebor._

_Excerpt from **A** **Ballad of Battles by Prince Fíli.**_

~.~.~.

"Umm, excuse me Princess? I'm sorry to interrupt, but the thing is I have no clue what it is you're doing here?"

Now William believed himself to be a very patient and amicable host, but the Princess was grating on his last nerves. She had commented on every single aspect of Bag End without mercy, and even wiped her muddy feet on his mother's glory box! Though once she realized what she had done Dís was embarrassed but made no attempt at apologizing.

Then she had taken a seat at his dining room table and waited patiently, until he opened his big mouth.

"Ohh? I was told that this was to be a social gathering, perhaps Gandalf can rectify that later. Gimli as well for sending me Westwards without a proper explanation."

Gandalf? That old coot was a part of this! Sure he had seen William maybe once at their initial encounter, but other than that the human was not enough of a friend (or acquaintance) to invite people over to his smial!

"Is that so?"

"Quite, and I was promised a meal."

Of course she was.

So he had retrieved his meal and set it in front of her with the proper cutlery and everything.

All of which she promptly discarded and slid the meal back to William, "My apologizes but you are not aware of my certain... diet. But fret not, Gimli will surely think of this ahead of time." The hobbit bristled in his place next to the dining room table; oh how his hobbit sensibilities were tingling. It was very improper to deny a freely given meal, but to do so in front of the very host who had prepared it was unthinkable.

He had no clue how a princess should behave but it was certainly not like this.

"Excu-" and before William could say any more he heard the doorbell ring throughout the smial. With a bow he had back from the room and stalked over to the door, and when he opened it there was another dwarrowdam.

This one was different from Dís; Dís was fair with a small side-burn beard going on and long, dark hair this woman was covered in hair. Compared to himself this dwarrowdam was a bushel; her eyebrows were impressive and her beard extended to her chin but wasn't much longer than a Man's beard. She was ornamented with the finest of jewels and gold and it complemented her fire red hair that went well past her shoulder blades.

"Lady Gliah, at your service," Gliah bowed her head respectfully to her host and waited for him to step to the side. William floundered slightly before returning the bow with his own introduction.

"Ahh, if you would be so kind to take these. Please be careful they are all loaded, and I have yet to figure out what a 'safety' is," and Gliah began to remove multiple guns from her clothes. Two 10mms from the inside of her fur coat, a combat SMG from her back, and many other guns that he knew nothing about were all placed in his frozen arms.

If Lady Gliah had weapons that meant Dís was sure to have some as well; it also meant that he could have been shot this night if he did something bad enough. He knew many modernized dwarves were very temperamental beings who fought for the slightest reasons, but these two ladies radiated a wisdom that elves did. He couldn't fathom it but as soon as he had put her firearms down safely the bell rang once more.

No, no more visitors; the two dwarrowdam in his dining room were quite enough for him, but anymore he would not tolerate. William had made up his mind when he threw the door open and was promptly buried under a gaggle of dwarves.

_Bilbo could hardly breathe as the crushing weight of six dwarves pushed him into the hardwood floors of his childhood home. Then all at once he was relieved when the weight began to dissipate as if someone was pulling off the dwarves. "Bilbo? Are you alright?" and he was pulled onto his feet and without missing a beat he scowled at his savior._

_"Gandalf..." and he was tired of all the shit he was put through._

_"Sorry 'bout tha', my brotha' ain't been the most balanced dwarf there eva' was," a dwarf with a funny hat told him, "Names Bofur. This is Bombur and Bifur, my brotha' and cousin."_

_"Bilbo Baggins, at your service."_

Then when he woke he found himself in his favorite chair with the burgundy blanket draped on his lap, "Wha?"

"Bilbo? Are you okay?"

William looked up at the owner of the voice and nearly jumped out his skin, Ian was there with much amusement in his eyes. "Gandalf? Or Ian, which is it?" he asked in confusion.

"Gandalf! Has he woken yet?!" and Gandalf winked at William, as if that answered his question. William was fed up with the onslaught of dwarves at his smial and the fact that he had lost consciousness in front of them as well. This was not befitting the gentlehobbit that his parents raised, and William found himself not caring for once. All he wanted to do was open his door and through them all out and go back to him reading.

He wished he had never went into The Grey Havens, but alas he did and now look where he was.

William looked to the curved entryway into the sitting room and there was a nervous dwarf standing there; this one was dressed modernly compared to the others in his home. Jeans and leather boots and jacket made up his ensemble, all colored closely to black and his hair was a muted red. It was pretty impressive seeing as the dwarf's beard was braided into a highly complex rope. "My name is Hofur, son of Bombur. I'd like to apologize for causing an avalanche of dwarves to fall on you, never was the most graceful dwarf to live," and finally! One of them had some sort of manners!

"It is not a problem Master Hofur, it happens to the best of us every now and then."

"Nonetheless I still offer my apologies."

Well maybe the dwarves had some sort of saving grace after all.

"Then thank you, and its just Hofur. No master or anything like that, well not any more," and Hofur looked nostalgic. Though he was so young looking; William had no clue why he could look as if the Ages weighed down on him.

Before the hobbit could ask him why he was not addressed formally as "Master" the Princess Dís knocked on the wooden doorway, interrupting their conversation. Hofur quickly bowed respectfully to both Dís and William before leaving the room with Gandalf. "I hope you are okay Master Baggins, my kin are not the lightest in all of Arda," she said quietly.

"Ahh, its no trouble Master Hofur cleared the air already."

Dís shuffled on her feet uncomfortably and sighed, "If only Frerin or Thorin were here, they were the more diplomatic of us. However, I feel like I should get to the chase. No sense in beating around the bush right Master Baggins?"

William nodded and gestured to the seat next to him, "I couldn't agree more Princess Dís."

"None of that Princess malarkey now, I haven't been a Princess in Ages. If anything its more of a title than a position at this point."

"Well then Mistress Dís, please enlighten me as to why I am now hosting at least a dozen dwarves in my smial."

A smile bloomed across her stoic face and William nearly doubled over with pain.

_Bilbo loved his smile most of all, and according to Thorin it was much like his sister's._

_"We are more alike than we like to admit, but that is the beauty of it Bilbo. We are pig-headed and are more trouble than what we are worth. More often than not we tend to shove our feet in out mouths."_

_"If this is what you call trouble, then I think I can handle what comes my way. This adventure to Erebor is nothing compared to the mischief Fíli and Kíli have been causing the entire way here!"_

_Thorin merely laughed at his hobbit as Bilbo pouted. "Yeah, laugh it up Asshole Under the Mountain! You just wait for them to put a snake in your sleeping bag!"_

"Master Baggins! Can you hear me?" and William blinked. His mind trying to place where he was, and his eyes were still seeing things that didn't exist. William was still hearing another name; but the problem was he didn't know why people insisted on calling him Bilbo. His name was William, so these damned memories were ruining him. "Master Baggins?" Dís tried once more.

"Ahh, terribly sorry about that. What were you saying?" and he smiled apologetically.

Dís for the most part took it with a grain of salt, and continued on but she was much more optimistic than before. "As I said earlier, my kin and I were looking for someone to partake in an adventure with. There are stipulations and a need for a signed contract, but we will be traveling to far off places and exotic settlements. So if anything we just want reassurance that you will be able to see the entire...vacation, if you will, through."

"I feel as if there is something you are not telling me Mistress Dís. Out with it, I am in no mood to be left out of something important if I am to be involved," William sat in his chair and waited. There was a feeling that he couldn't ignore; he couldn't not go with them, but he wasn't going in blind. Dís and the dwarves were hiding something and he intended on figuring out what.

"It is a very long story, and not one for the faint of heart," she spoke somberly, "Are you sure you want to hear it?"

"Yes."

Dís sighed and nodded, "Where to start?"

"The beginning would be the best."

William settled into his chair as Dís did the same; he was more than ready for a little story. An explanation to a night that he clearly wasn't expecting was much appreciated at this point and time. "Well, first is do you have the book?" she asked him.

"Excuse me?"

"Ori's journal, do you have it? And his sketches too."

William froze in his chair and Dís grew even more optimistic; she knew exactly what was transpiring in his mind. "How-?" he began but William had no clue how to finish his sentence.

"You don't remember them, but you can distinguish their faces if you saw them. We are here to bring you back, to erase what you have done," Dís told him, "We have waited three Ages to find you. You'll understand once we get going, but if you don't then we'll never be the same again!"

"Tell me the story Mistress Dís," and William left no room for negotiation. His eyes hard as he stared down Dís.

"You need to-"

"Tell me the bloody story! Why is this happening?!"

He didn't know it but Gliah and the dwarf he saw in Bell's cafe were standing in the doorway with their hands on their guns. Though Dís shook her head at them and tried to placate the hobbit, "Its happening because of your last life. You fucked up everything for us."

"Last life? What a load of malarkey!"

Dís proved to be the sister of Thorin and then proceeded to loose her temper, "In your last life you were Bilbo Baggins and you were everything to my brother! When you died you did this to us! YOU'RE THE REASON WE LIVE THIS WAY! YOU CURSED ALL OF US! AN ENTIRE PORTION OF THE CONTINENT IS UNDERDEVELOPED AS OUR CONSEQUENCE!"

"Blaming me for something I never did!" William jumped to his feet at the same time Dís did, "How fucking nice of you!"

"I'm stating the facts! It is no problem of mine if you are too incompetent to understand what I'm saying! If only you had never met my brother-"

"I never met your brother!"

"I bet your parents are rolling in their graves right now!"

"Get out," William gritted through his clenched teeth and when Dís faltered he got pissed. "Get out of my home. Now," and he was more than glad to show her the way out if she needed the help finding it. As she threw her head back haughtily and walked from the sitting room Gandalf tried to make his presence known. "You too. ALL of you, leave and don't come back."

The Man nodded and herded the other dwarves William didn't get to meet from the halls; leaving him right there. Alone like he always was.

"Master Baggins?" and William turned to see Gliah standing at the doorway, "If you wish to know more, my kin and I are headed for Bree. And I am sorry for what Dís said, she is just like Thorin and looses her temper too often." Then she was gone.

Just like everyone in his life.

~.~.~.

"I shouldn't have lost my temper with her," William whispered to himself as he cleared away his cold dinner. The hobbit was cleaning the mud and dirt from his floors and finally eating his untouched dinner. "I need to apologize," but he wouldn't. There was nothing in the situation that was his fault and he knew it; if only Gandalf had never invited them to his home then this wouldn't have happened.

They left him frustrated, guilty, and alone: whether they wanted to piss him off or not they had awakened something in him. And he was afraid of it; William was raised to accept change no matter how grueling it may be, but this was something much more than Stock Market Crashes. Oh, if his mother were here she would have boxed his ears by now.

William shook himself from those thoughts; he was no longer the tween hobbit living paycheck to paycheck anymore. Nor was he the same William to pick up that wicked razor under the influence of his first hangover after his parents' deaths. He was not the hobbit to be made fun of for his sexuality (the rainbow and slurred door after his parents' deaths was nearly the end of him.)

He was not him anymore.

This William Baggins had risen from the ashes of his troubled past and made himself respectable; a hobbit that was complete. A hobbit that wasn't missing something, but no matter how many achievements he buried himself under William was just that. Incomplete.

He invested young into some volatile companies with all he had; hoping that if they paid off in the long run he would feel accomplished and maybe that would be enough for his incomplete soul. Though it wasn't, nothing he ever did was enough anymore.

"Damn those dwarves," he grumbled as he cleaned his way into the dining room they had once occupied. It was all their fault for doing this to him, for bringing up those insecurities he thought were long gone. Then before he could complain to himself any further an odd smell hit his nose, and the only thing on the table was one of his wine glasses. He picked up the glass and swirled the liquid around a bit; what he first thought of to be a black liquid showed that it really was a red blood.

Was that what he thought it was?

_"You are not aware of my certain... diet."_

William dropped his glass and hollowly listened to the glass shatter on the table; he watched as the blood stain the white tablecloth that ran down the middle of the table. His honey eyes were wide in shock and surprise, and he just put his hand to his mouth to stifle his cry. The other hand reached out to finger the paper he had missed in his confusion, and it was perfect.

Utter perfection, but it was not a photograph; instead it was a charcoal sketching of him. There were slight differences, mainly his nose structure, but other than that it was a perfect drawing of him. Sitting next to him was a dwarf, handsome and charming but burdened. He was dark haired and everything that William dreamed of as a tween. A date had been put in at the bottom of the page in the same charcoal; _2941 T.A. Bilbo and Thorin in Rivendell._

T.A? The Third Age, no that was eight thousand years ago, when Arda had begun to move towards a progressive era; though the progress that occurred was too little in too long. Elves had been the pioneers for new technology, but their old age caused them to be complacent for much of the Fourth and Fifth Ages.

Maybe there was a chance for him to be reborn, but William was too afraid to even consider that. He wasn't going to the East no matter what, it was rugged and lacking in basic Sixth Age amenities, like plumbing and electricity in most parts. A study had been conducted by the scientists that were doing the research had disappeared a little after they crossed the River Running. It was a haven for criminals and covered in centuries old conspiracies. Then there was the idea of having to confront with the consequences of his last life.

Maybe Dís was right; if he was the reason they had stooped to such lows then maybe he ought to atone for it.

A thumb drive was the next thing he found; the blood red drive was quickly plugged into the USB port on his laptop. When he loaded up the files all he saw was a Microsoft Document with his name as the title.

_**Dear Master Boggins,** _

_**Assuming that your initial meeting with my mother was less than polite, I wish to extend both apologies and opportunities. It has come to my attention that you will either be arriving to the Lonely Mountain in the next month or so, or you may decided to never leave the country of Eriador. It is no place of mine to judge what you may do but allow me to broaden your horizons.** _

**_In the situation that you decide to travel with my mother and the Company you will, as I am sure Mother mentioned, visit exotic locations. In Bree, there is a contact in the Prancing Pony named Aragorn and he will provide you with food and shelter. From there the Company can regroup with you and begin the travel to Rivendell. From there the Lord Elrond will provide for you and the Company, but after that the luxury of cars will be gone. The Company will cross the Misty Mountains on horses until they rest at Beorn's Cottage. After the trek through Mirkwood will commence and I will not lie it is a long journey, but from there you will be placed under guard until passing through Dale and Esgaroth. When you arrive all will be explained in full detail, Ori himself will oversee this part._ **

**_From there you will be introduced to the King's Council and finally the Crown Prince Fíli and King Thorin; any others that you may be interested in seeing will take an audience with you at a later date. When you are satisfied with the visit you have the option of making a new life in the Inner Palace or returning to Bag Shot Road._ **

**_If you wish to leave after you make it to Erebor it is permitted, but tread carefully the East is not a nice as it was in the past. You have the option of traveling alone to the Shire or having a squad accompany you._ **

**_On the other hand if you refuse the offer then no ill will will be harbored against you or the Shire Providence and you will be compensated for any troubles._ **

**_A number has been attached to the file if you want more information._ **

**_May Mahal watch over you in the Halls of Waiting,_ **

**_Kíli, son of Dís and Víli, second in line for the Throne of Erebor._ **

William weighed his options carefully; compensation was fantastic, but knowledge was worth more to him. He sighed, "There is no way I'm doing this."

But he found himself dialing the number into his phone and waiting for the long distance call to pick up. "Kíli here," and William was too late to back out or do anything other than talk to Kíli.

"Yes Prince Kíli, I called regarding your letter."

"Ahh! Master Boggins!"

"Baggins, Prince Kíli, Baggins."

The voice was so very happy and loud in his ear that William felt exuberant as well; it had been a while since he had heard such enthusiasm. "Oh course Master Boggins, did you need anything else explained?" the prince asked the hobbit.

"I was wondering why now, according to your mother the fault should have been rectified ages ago."

"Well we were waiting for you! Can't have a party without a proper hobbit after all, but after we got reports on you becoming more aware of being Bilbo we couldn't not take the chance," Kíli explained. "And it has been a terribly long time since anything interesting happened here, why not stir up the trouble?"

William sighed and shook his head with a fond smile; he didn't know why but the thought of the Prince causing mischief brought him exasperated happiness.

"Fine then, what shall I do with my properties while I'm gone from Eriador-" before he could finish he heard Kíli cry out, "Prince Kíli?"

"I knew you would come eventually! Okay, just leave it to me and I'll arrange for some of my kin to take care of that for you. You need to meet up with Aragorn in Bree immediately!" and the hope that the Prince showed nearly floored him. William couldn't get out of it now; he had signed Sauron's black book of sins so to speak and now had to go through with this.

"Goodbye, have a nice night."

Kíli merely hung up the phone and William sighed; time to get ready for the Journey to Erebor (again). As the hobbit began to prepare, halfway across the world a brunette dwarf was racing through the quiet city of the Inner Palace. "UNCLE! UNCLE!" Kíli screamed as he ran down the long aisle in the Throne Room. His golden haired brother Fíli was discussing something with Thorin when Kíli came barreling in.

"He's coming!"

For the first time in a long time the people of Erebor, all three thousand citizens (not including the army) had something to be happy about.

Maybe if they were able to reconcile with the source all of their problems would be solved.

Right?

~.~.~.

Bree was just as he remembered it to be, a sleepy little town that he had enjoyed visiting as a child. Sometimes to him there was only so much of the sprawling city that was Hobbiton, so to remedy that his mother would bring him to Bree. "A breath of fresh air, right?" she would say as they walked around the small farmer's market there.

Now it was picturesque as the sun rose over the little village, and William watched through the heated interior of a double decker bus.

Mornings like this made him sick to his stomach; it was a constant reminder to him about what plagued his past.

Though the beauty of the country side was a balm to his torn heart, and William was glad to see the sleepy town as well as walk in the little cobblestone streets. A smile bloomed across his face as the bus stopped and he pulled his traveling pack from seat next to him. Then reality hit him again. He may or may not have just left his home unattended, only for some unknown dwarves to 'take care of it' for him.

"I've lost it," he grumbled as he pushed the door to the Prancing Pony open.

Like it was in his childhood there was a few stragglers drinking and eating, but it was a family friendly joint. The drunks were sectioned off with a bar while there was a functional kitchen that reminded him of the Gaffer, pumping out fresh hash browns and eggs. His old friend Aragorn was flipping flapjacks when he settled himself on a stool with his pack at his feet.

"Long night Ara?" he said as he thumbed through the menu.

The man had turned on his heel with a nearly militaristic precision and greeted the hobbit warmly; and it was then that he realized how long it had been since he had seen the Dunedain. A descendant of the old Gondorian throne, an ex-captain in the Eriadorian Army, and now a cook in an inn in the middle of Bree. Most importantly he was William's friend and had been since he was just coming out on top in the stock market.

It was circumstance on how they met but William was pleased with the outcome; he and his elven wife Arwen had been his friend for over a decade. Though Arwen was a bit nostalgic whenever they talked; her eyes getting that far away look but he always assumed it was due to her long life as an elf. Aragorn got that way at times too but due to his military background he had thought that it was because of any flashbacks he got of battle.

He had never assumed anything of them.

"Morning William! Its been a couple years hasn't it?" the large man asked as he flipped a pancake in the air before turning his attention to the hobbit.

"It has but here I am."

"Going somewhere? You never stop at Bree without reason," Aragorn commented as he plated the pancake and walked over to a small fridge to get some eggs. Then a door off to the side was pushed open and out came Arwen; her long hair pulled in a bun and hidden under a hair net. She easily carried out a large bowl of batter in one arm and balanced three cartons of eggs with the other.

"Morning Arwen!" William said and she smiled in return, "But I am leaving the West, and a Prince Kíli told me that you would be able to set me up for the day."

Aragorn looked confused for a second before his mind began to process what was just said, "You're what?"

"I'm going to the East, with Dís's Company."

The human sighed as he scrambled eggs on the flat stove before plating them up, a couple pieces of bacon and a nice serving of hash browns made its way onto the plate as well. "Well I'm inclined to tell you of the things that happen in the East, the East and its kingdoms are very secretive. Very hostile, some say they drink blood and covet the blood if the Hobbit Race more than any other," he said after giving the hobbit a cup of coffee.

Arwen nodded in agreement, "My father had went to the Mirkwood in the Fifth Age to see King Thranduil, but Ada came back different. He wasn't the same, but he refuses to set off to the Grey Havens. He stays for something, but tells us nothing. Beware of the East dear William, it has changed in my many years of life."

"I will be fine, I promise I will," William protested.

"I know you will but it is Princess Dís I worry about," Arwen sat next to him after giving Aragorn the batter and eggs, "I wish that you were not to go to the East, but if there is one thing I learned about you William, it is that you are one of the most stubborn people I've met. You put your mind to something and never stop until you have finished."

"Fuck my contact fell out again," Aragorn complained as he pulled out a slim case from his pocket to get one of the thin contacts out. William was too busy talking to Arwen to see the grey colored contacts.

Her husband merely shook his head as he listened to the two, and while facing the wall he pulled out his phone and turned on the camera. To his horror instead of the grey steel eyes there was a red and grey iris reflected on the screen. He put the phone on the counter and shakily put on the other contact; that was too close for comfort.

He was so hungry; its been a good year since his last shipment of nutrition from Dale.

Though he was very resourceful, and not matter how unsatisfying it was drinking the blood of deer was better than starving. In his trusty metal flask that was always on his hip, was the thick and Eru awful deer blood.

Aragorn put down his contact case and leaned on the counter near the coffee machine; the cold flask met his lips and he shuddered as he forced himself to drink the blood. "Do you have to drink so early in the morning Ara?" William teased from his place next to Arwen.

He licked his teeth before answering, making sure that the blood was off his pearly teeth (one thing he loved about the Sixth Age was dentistry) and grinned.

"What can I say? All I need is a good drink!"

He wished that wasn't the case; he wished that he didn't have to deceive William like this, but this was consequence of his bad timing.

Aragorn just so happened to be in the East during the Third Age, when the Battle of the Five Armies ended and he remembered the smoldering town upon the lake. The bloodstained desolation covered in bodies of all races; and he meant all races.

From orcs to elves to dwarves, they all lay dead at the feet of Erebor.

Along with the sole Hobbit; Bilbo Baggins.

He had done literally nothing except be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and was cursed to live the next eight thousand years continually starving. Though he had lived with Arwen for most of that, from being the King of Gondor (faking his death to start a new life under a new name) to a fucking diner chef.

It was temptation living near all these delicious hobbits and men, but it was for the greater good as Gandalf said. If he was able to steer Bilbo's reincarnation in the right direction to Erebor there was the slightest chance he would be cured.

And to drink some Dorwinion wine without throwing up was worth the chance; that and he wouldn't be tempted to drink his wife's blood every other day.

"I'll call Lady Gliah or Princess Dís if you are serious about this," he offered William.

Those honey eyes that trusted him so much flashed him a grateful look, "I'd like that."

Aragorn only hoped that he wasn't sending William Baggins to his death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the support for this story, I'm using this to help pace myself when it comes to setting up a plot line. Is it working or is the pace to fast or slow? Let me know guys!
> 
> Ragehappy Mavin Fan  
> (A.K.A Rhohel_of_the_Shire)


	3. A Confused Identity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, William Baggins was very different than Bilbo Baggins, and no matter how it hurt to be reminded of that gentle hobbit Gandalf would make sure he was giving William the chance to be his own memory in the many that Gandalf had.
> 
> It was the least he could do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope that I am pacing myself well enough for there to be action in the story, yet not have the plot become stagnant. I hope you all are enjoying!
> 
> Paring: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
> 
> Rating: T
> 
> Warning: Mentions of attempts of suicide, and slight homophobia.
> 
> The Hobbit belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.

**_"When I look around, all I see are memories._ **

**_Memories of a time long forgotten and the simplicity of just being me, a simple thief in the night. Then I remember that I'll never be able to go back to that life again."_ **

**_-Nori, son of Kori._ **

**_Official Spymaster of King Thorin Oakenshield II_ **

~.~.~.

"Are you sure you wish to go William? This all seems so terribly urgent," Bell asked, her voice braking a bit over the terrible reception in his room.

William was sitting in a chair next to a window with a wonderful view, a book in his lap and a phone to his ear. His sensitive ear was prickling in pain as Bell screeched and ranted over the phone, then becoming irritatingly kind. Her mood swings were very erratic to say the least and no matter how much William loved her there was no amount of him that wished that she would not turn one of those famous mood swings on him.

"I am sure Bell, it would do me good. To finally fulfill her dreams, to see the East for all its shortcomings and beauties. Make her one wish in her will a reality, that is what I need to do."

"You don't want to do it do you?"

"I don't want, I _need_ to do it."

She was silent on the other side of the line, but then he heard her sigh and merely pray beneath her breath. "Call me when you get to Rivendell then William, and if you do decide to go to the East then I better damn well see some pictures. No use in going if there isn't anything to show for it huh?" she basically ordered him. He smiled; Bell always loved to decorate her and Hamfast's cafe with the most beautiful things and pictures. Well growing up with the two of them had taught him to take a good picture, one that depicted the scenic views. He had filled the walls of their home before his photos made it to their cafe, then his parents' deaths had him take a hiatus so to speak.

There was no passion in something he couldn't show to the people he loved.

"I'll leave you be then, Bell. I'll see you soon, promise."

"You better, if not then I'll box those ears of yours!"

They only shared a laugh together as they said their goodbyes, and William pulled the phone from his ear and gladly hit the 'End Call' button. His eyes were strained as they took in ever aspect of the book's text; and William finally conceded to take out the honey colored contacts. Bright green eyes were exposed to the dying sunlight as William looked out the window.

He supposed that it would be a good time to get ready, but after a quick look to the clock hanging on the wall he decided a nap would be better. William would need it in the days to come.

_"He never should have come! He has no place among us!"_

_When he looked around he saw no help coming from those he counted as friends; some agreed with those words and other just stood there. Bilbo was cold on the inside as they all gathered into a cave so conveniently placed nearby from where the Incident occurred. He sat in the dark, shivering, when he decided that he was going to do this anymore; he was going home._

_Bilbo's feet ghosted around the various dwarves as they slept on; the only one that would know of his leaving would be Bofur. He was one of the few that actually cared._

William woke as the door was nearly knocked off the hinges by Aragorn, "Wakey, wakey! You slept through dinner but Arwen's made you some supper!" The hobbit glared as he tried to shuffle under the blankets but rolled off the bed when the human ripped off the sheets.

"Damn you," he grumbled.

The asshole merely waved it off as he gathered the sheets and walked off with them; effectively making William get up. His button up shirt was wrinkled and his pants were too crumpled to wear in public. He undid the buttons and shirked off his shirt; and looked over at the mirror of a second. But a second was all that he needed to be reminded of what he was. Who he was, and how he came to be.

He stared blankly at the large scar on the right side of his torso and remembered how it got there.

_William wanted it all to stop; he really did. They were getting too harsh and his resolve to stay strong was too weak._

_The knife was calling to him with a deadly siren's call and he just wanted it all to end. His Baggins cousins were too uncaring of his feelings to realize what they had been doing, nothing like his mother's relatives. The Took clan was nice but wild; everything that the Baggins Family hated._

_Otho and his girlfriend Lobelia were talking about him again, and they had the gall to do it when they knew he was listening. It was the first birthday he had spent without his parents and Hamfast was gracious enough to host party for him and sent out a Shire wide invitation. But that meant that Lobelia was going to be there._

_"Ungrateful I would say. We all know that he isn't a family man, but the queer still wants to keep Bag End all to himself," Lobelia sniffed haughtily to Otho and whomever might be listening to him. "It might have been better if William had died with his parents, save us the trouble of getting him out of the way."_

_"I agree sweetheart, he's been nothing but a burden to the family and he knows it," Otho laughed with some of his friends and family._

_His cousins were laughing and drinking with them, voicing their opinions about the teen._

_"You poor dears! He never really was what the thought himself to be!"_

_"Maybe if you two marry then Camelia will rescind Bungo's will; then you could get Bag End."_

_"I heard his mother slept with some dwarves to get that silverware you've had your eyes on Lobelia. Maybe that explains why William is so greedy."_

_"He should just kill himself and save you the trouble."_

_Maybe he should and hours after listening to them spit acid out of their gobs William decided to do them a favor. One moment he was standing with the knife pointed at his chest, and the next Hamfast and Bell were yelling at him to stay awake._

No, he refused to think about those days; and he forced a smile on his face as he slipped on a fresh button up. White and crisp like a proper hobbit's would look like; and with black dress pants to boot. He was much better than he was all those years ago, and he was changed from his volatile teen years.

William pushed back his curly hair and forgone his contacts; it always made Arwen happy to see his green eyes. Said it reminded her of Rivendell from her youth, so with that in mind he walked down to the diner.

His bare feet barely touched the stairs as he hurried down; he probably shouldn't have taken that nap since he was starving. "Ahhh! William, the Company that you asked for his here already! They'll be down in a second!" and he looked over to Arwen. She was busy plating up dishes for her and him and filled it with all his favorites. His mouth watered at the sight of baked potatoes and steak, and he rushed over to help her.

"Aragorn eat already?" he asked, and she nodded.

The man never seemed to eat and it both concerned and puzzled William; as long as he knew Aragorn the human had erratic eating schedules. Never really eating during the day but in the early morning. When William had let them stay with him in the second year of his parents' death he saw the man get up and make food for himself during the night.

Aragorn never really liked what he had at Bag End, but ate it anyway; never with him or Arwen during mealtimes. "A bad habit I picked up from a bad childhood," he explained to William once. And from there William dropped the subject.

"Yes, but he was kind enough to make dessert if you want any," and when they both got their fill they sat at the bar. William folding his hands in his lap and whispering a prayer alongside Arwen. With a final thanks for the meal she cooked they both ate; and every now and then the hobbit could see the elf refrain from using proper etiquette that she must have learned at one point in her long life.

"William, I want you to stay safe," she told him between her sips of wine, "I've been alive too long. I've seen too many friends die, don't let me add your name to the list of people I've lost."

"I won't, you have my word."

"Of course I do, but the question is: will your word have any weight on what your future holds?"

To that he had no answer and she could only offer him a smile; in that moment Arwen had never looked that old. Her ever youthful face had stress lines he had not seen on her and she seemed so... so _tired._ William would have said something, anything to make her understand that he would never die on her when a jovial voice broke out, "Ahhh William! I am pleased to see that you have decided to join us after all."

Gandalf plopped down next to him with his own plate loaded with food with a second one filled with blueberry-lemon tarts; the old man was more than happy to sit down and eat. "To what do I owe this pleasure Gandalf?" William asked between sips of his drink.

He let out a laugh before cutting up his steak, "Just as I remember, still a snarky hobbit. So what made you change your mind?"

William smiled as he tore into a buttermilk biscuit, "My mother, Isabella, had always wanted to see the East for all its rugged beauty. She would have wanted me to go."

"A valid reason if any. The East is a very rural are though, and I doubt that there are an abundance of amenities that you are used to. Like beds and rest stops, not to mention the lack of roads. It will be very hard for you."

"My life is not without hardships Gandalf, I can take a couple months of this."

Arwen smirked at William and very cheekily added, "Ah Mithrandir, I do wish you luck. William can be quite the pain in the ass." The old man heartily laughed when William kicked at Arwen's stool, and threatened something along the lines of 'getting Aragorn to get revenge for him'.

From there the three sat in silence; the only noise being the sounds of cutlery scratching against the plates. William had just been getting through his steak when the door to the inn opened and the Princess Dís and Lady Gliah walked in. "No weapons in my inn!" Aragorn called from the back room and the two nodded and went to put up their concealed weapons.

Dís eyed him as she passed; her eyes holding distrust for the hobbit but Gliah on the other hand seemed genuinely happy to see him.

"Master Baggins, a pleasure to see you," Gliah greeted him as she walked by his chair.

"You as well Lady Gliah."

The red headed dwarrowdam handed Dís her gun before taking the seat Arwen vacated, the elf now taking the empty plates for them to be cleaned. She settled the satchel that he didn't see on the counter top. "Correct me if I'm mistaken Master Baggins, but you seem to like order and routines. Correct?" Gliah asked as she pulled a large manila folder from the satchel.

The folder was filled to the brim with papers that Gliah easily skimmed through before finding the one she wanted. Well, it was more like a stack that she presented to him with a soft smile. William nodded and let her place in front of him with a pen before attempting to explain what he was looking at. "There are bound to be risks when traveling East and Prince Fíli has compiled a list of all kinds of hazards for you to see. Think of this as a last way out and your insurance for the trip."

He nodded and flipped through the papers taking in all underlined portions and trying to find any sort of loopholes, when he came across the first hazard. "T-This can't be right my Lady," he stammered out and she frowned.

"Did Fíli type in an error? He has not gotten as tech savvy as Kíli," Gliah asked in concern.

"No, but th-this says _lacerations_ , followed by _evisceration and incineration_! What sort of risks are there?"

Gliah shuffled in her chair uncomfortably before saying, "There have been rumors of a cannibalistic culture near the edge of Esgaroth, but as far as I know these allegations have been false. People keep claiming that Lily Hale was eaten by humans and dwarrow, but she was not documented to have passed the capitol or the Eriador Eastern Border."

"Wait, so you are telling me there is a slight chance of _**CANNIBALS**_?" William basically screeched in disbelief.

Gliah answered in a meek voice, "Well, if we have to the Company knows how to use firearms to defend ourselves if need be."

The door to the inn opened and the Company walked in to see William fall off his stool in a dead faint.

Hofur looked at him and sighed, "How many times are we gonna make the Hobbit faint?"

No one had that answer.

~.~.~.

The Company of Dís was gathered in the private lounge smoking after Aragorn hefted William onto his back to bring him to his room. All eleven of the dwarves were trying to put their gold coin in the conversation, but Gliah reigned supreme.

"You cannot expect much more from him! Despite the easy lifestyle he's lived in there is still trial and tribulations that he overcame that we know not of!" she defended but Dís was having none of it.

"I understand where you're coming from but if he faints at the mere mention of cannibals then how are we to ensure his safety. There is too much on the line, so much at stake if we mess this up! I can't keep doing this any longer!" and some of the company nodded along with her. Most notably Bayar, daughter of Bifur, was kicking up the most fuss about the hobbit.

To her he was weak; she could not remember what it was like to drink anything other than blood and it took everything she had to not drain the hobbit of his. Bayar was just a wee babe when Erebor had been retaken and she could only toddle when the curse took its hold on the Eastern people. She had lived almost her entire life with this hanging over her head and was ignorant to the easy life of those in the West.

She had dark brown hair that hung to her waist and piercing green eyes; even though she had a little stubble she was easily one of the most coveted dwarrowdams in the Company. It's a shame that her beauty was wasted on her; the lass had a temper to rival Thorin and Dís's and to top it off she abhorred the Hobbit race. "I say we leave the useless bugger, ain't no reason to risk our future on his blunders. He could very well be a major disappointment," and her cousins nodded.

Hadvor and Halina were the twin terrors of all of Bombur's children; the two were very much like Fíli and Kíli but the difference was that they played off each other in sync. Both fighting with each other to throw off any adults trying to lecture them for the trouble they made; passing off the blame until the adult left frustrated. In their adulthood they proved to be avid fighters.

Warriors during times of war and in peace they were simple toy makers; little good that did them in Erebor where there were no children.

They were innocent just like many of the Ered Luin Immigrants when they moved to Erebor in the Third Age, so it was bitter for them to need the help of the one that had done this to them. To have cursed children and future generations without thought. None of them knew the hobbit like the original Company did; none of them could even comprehend the difference between Bilbo and William.

"Ah, but we must remember that this hobbit holds a pain that we all have been through. We, as a people, have been betrayed before and as of such has hated without regard. This is just another case of us judging those without all the knowledge to judge with, if that makes any sense," a soft brown haired dwarrowdam said from her spot next to Gliah.

"Kori, you cannot just sit there and expect him to right all the wrongs he has done!"

"And you cannot just insinuate that William Baggins is the same as Bilbo Baggins from the Third Age. Bilbo is dead! Long gone in a Battle that would have taken the lives of those in the Company and from the surrounding cities and kingdoms. Yes, his anger caused this to happen, but according to King Thorin and Tharkun if he knew what would happen then Bilbo Baggins would never have done this!" Kori said while the dwarf next to her was shaking his head and growled under his breath.

This man dangerous, just by looking at him could one tell that; the tattoos on his bare arms and the fierce red hair only emphasized that. To any he was bad business but to Kori he was a lover; a companion through time. A husband and a father. He was Hjalli, son of Kalin and Hanni; but most importantly he was a protector and to him millennium after millennium of constant hunger was too much for him.

It was so hard watching the sweet babes he helped raise turn into bloodthirsty monsters; his only consolation was that they managed to keep a hold on their sanity.

So he held animosity towards the one that had done this to him and his family.

"Kori, my treasure, you know that his soul remembers his sins. His mind may be innocent but the soul is anything but! His very soul is black with the weight of his crimes!"

Sitting next to Dís and Gliah was another dwarrowdam; her sharp, brown eyes narrowed at the thought of what Hjalli was insinuating. Her rich brown hair was pulled into a braid that was clasped by a mithril bead; the same mithril that failed to save Bilbo Baggins. To those in the Company of Dís she was Líska, the wife of Fíli and sister of Arndí.

She was a spitfire; a true catch among those of dwarven birth.

And she was not going to sit here and listen to that dragon shit.

"Easy for you to say Hjalli, if the soul remembers their sins then yours must be of the blackest ones! All those women and children you target for the sake of them being easy prey? All those murders on all of our minds, nay our very souls? What say you in your defense?" she spat at him as her hand itched towards her pant pockets. Eager, no doubt, to slash his throat with one of the thousands of knives her husband had gifted her over the years.

"Calm sister, Master William will weigh his decisions carefully no doubt. Soft he may be, but dumb he is not," a serene voice piped up from the window sill. A graying dwarrowdam was sitting upon the sill as she smoked from her cigar. "He realizes that we are desperate and is willing to atone for crimes he has not committed."

"I agree Aunt Arndí, he has yet to prove his worth. If anything this will be fun to watch," Gimli called out as he drank from his canteen once more.

The princess looked indifferent on the outside but after thousands of years to get to know the other, all could see the biased hatred she harbored for the hobbit. "If he slips up in the slightest, then we send him back to the Shire or just kill him there."

Most nodded in agreement while the others shook there head, but it mattered not there was a majority agreement on William's fate. Then Líska asked the question that mattered, "What if Master William does not join us in the end. We have given him no cause to help us, nor have any of us shown him any kinship besides Gliah."

"Then we wait for the next reincarnation, obviously," Bayar hissed out.

Gandalf chose that moment to conveniently enter the room as if he had not been dropping eaves on their conversation. His innocent expression was belied by the manila folder that Gliah had given William not too long ago. He threw it onto a coffee table carelessly before pulling out his pipe, "Against his own instincts he signed the contract after reading it all. But he has refused any funeral arrangements in the Inner Palace; he wishes to be buried next to his parents in the Under-hill Cemetary."

The dark haired fury that was Bayar paused for a second, "What? He did read the clause where he would be buried next to the past Kings and Queens of Erebor, right? Who could say no to that?"

The old Istari chuckled humorlessly, "He would and believe me I know why. I've been watching him grow up since infancy and I can say he has never been as devoted to someone as much as he was Bella and Bungo. They were with him when he came into the world and they will be with him after he leaves it." He took a great puff of his pipe and blew out oblong rings, "He is worth more than any of you think, and I for one am not willing to get to know Bilbo Baggins again. I will not slander my dear friend's memory by painting a new one on it. I will judge William as his own person, not as who he once was. As Kori said, Bilbo is gone. Treat him as such."

He left the air feeling tense but he wanted them to understand something that he had just seen himself; William was different from Bilbo. Sure, he was reincarnated from his old friend's soul, but this young hobbit was different. William had prevailed where Bilbo would have not; the modern hobbit had managed to survive depression and suicide.

While all Bilbo did was eek out a living in the Shire, pretending to be happy after the death of his parents but never truly filling the holes in his heart.

William ruled a small portion of stocks and was one of the most eligible (but gay) bachelors in the Shire, as was Bilbo but Bilbo never freely admitted it until he was safely out of the Shire. With dwarves who loved regardless of sex, though Gandalf knew it was because there were too few women to love.

And most importantly, William had his soul burn out and now that he has refueled it there is nothing he won't do to keep it alive.

Yes, William Baggins was very different than Bilbo Baggins, and no matter how it hurt to be reminded of that gentle hobbit Gandalf would make sure he was giving William the chance to be his own memory in the many that Gandalf had.

It was the least he could do.

~.~.~.

William was so confused; he didn't know who he was anymore.

"Stop," he pleaded to any of the Valar that could be listening to him, "Please no more." They never listened to him in his prayers and it was taking a toll on him. He could stand another one of those dreams. The last one still fresh on his mind; gone was the peace of the nearly leisurely travels and then came the hurry to get to his destination on time.

He remembered the gnawing hunger that assailed his sense and the feeling of dread that clung to him no matter the hope of the dwarves he sought to rescue. The hobbit pushed his damp hair out of his eyes and toweled it roughly. It was frustrating him to no end.

There was no source of these nightmares and no answers to them; but he knew the people in his dreams. The names didn't come to him but the faces did and he could see the familiarity of those faces in the new Company he found himself in.

The Company that he had just signed a dwarven contract to, and he was a man of his word and would see the journey through to the end.

A knock on his door jolted him from his thoughts and he looked up to see Aragorn slip into his room. He had a smile on his face and a bottle of bourbon in one hand and two shot glasses in the other. "Really Ara?" he grinned when the human set the bottle down on the coffee table as well as the glasses.

"Thought it might help take the edge off you," Aragorn replied at he took off the cap and poured the liquid into the glasses.

William threw his towel onto the bed and took one of the glasses Aragorn offered; he held it up for a moment in cheers and then tossed it back. The hobbit welcomed the burn happily as he set the glass on the table. Aragorn looked like he set his stomach on fire but still reached for the bourbon to refill his glass.

"You know Ara, if you don't like to drink then you don't have to," William commented.

"Don't want you drinking alone," and he pushed the bottle over to the hobbit before seating himself across from William. "Its a big world out there, and there will be many things that will want to kill you," he said. William nodded solemnly as he refilled his glass before leaning back to pay full attention to Aragorn. "But there will be many people that will help you. Like Arwen's father Lord Elrond, for example."

William was familiar with the name of the elf lord but he had never really interacted with him before; all he knew of him was from the stories that Arwen would tell him. "When you get to Rivendell I'm sure that Lord Elrond will try to set you and the Company on a path that will have the least amount of danger. From there I fear your on your own until you are safe in Erebor," he explained.

"I know, everyone seems to keep reminding me of all the dangers I'll face. That Gandalf bloke and Princess Dís keep emphasizing it," the hobbit downed his shot before going to refill his glass for a fourth time.

The human grimaced but still he pressed on, "I promised Prince Kíli that I would set the last addition of his mother's company up, but trust me when I say that I had no clue it was you William. I would not wish this on my worst enemy, so I feel like I'm sending you to Mordor with nothing but a leaf for protection."

"Ahh yes, I've been meaning to ask you about the Prince. How does the Prince of a far away thought to be abandoned kingdom know me?"

Aragorn struggled through another shot before resting the glass on the coffee table, "Well, I assumed that he knew your family in one way or another. Though I will say that all royal families have some way of knowing information that others do not."

The hobbit nodded before stretching and Aragorn took that as a signal that he was going to sleep, "I'll see you tomorrow before you leave William. Just do me a favor okay?"

"Yeah what is it?" William asked as he stood up from his seat.

"Never let your guard down in the East, not even once. You will regret it," and Aragorn turned to leave and got to the door before William called out to him.

His hand was on the doorknob when he heard his friend ask, "Why? What dangers are there really?"

The grey eyed man turned to look at William and smiled, "Lets just say if I'm the most dangerous thing in the West, then the East will literally eat you alive." With that he walked out of the room and closed the door behind him. As he walked down to his room Aragorn tried to ignore his instincts screaming at him to go back in there and kill.

Kill.

_Kill._

**Kill.**

_**KILL!** _

He hit the wall next to him as he bit down on his left hand; fangs pierced his skin but it didn't matter at all. It was so damn hard living like this and his body was desperate to throw up all the liquor he drank with William. Aragorn swallowed back the bile in his throat and willed his body to accept the alcohol; it hurt so bad. Though he wasn't going to throw it all away; this was the most human he felt in years.

To be able to sit down and drink his heart away made him feel like the Ranger he was in the Third Age.

Not the monster he became.

Aragorn struggled to walk to his room as best as he could; his harsh breaths fell on deaf ears as he opened the door to his room. His first thought was to down the deer blood, but when he did that it only made it worse.

He needed living blood.

"Aragorn? Are you okay?"

No, no, not Arwen. ANYTHING BUT ARWEN, and with a shaking hand he removed the contacts from his eyes. His free hand was covering his mouth desperately as a comforting hand rested on his shoulder.

"Love? Do I need to go to the cottage?" and he didn't trust himself to open his mouth so he merely nodded his head.

Sick, he was a sick monster and as his beautiful wife left him all alone in his room Aragorn realized something.

He felt no guilt in sending William to the East if it meant he got to live a normal and happy life with Arwen. The man didn't know if this made him even more of a monster or not.

~.~.~.

_Who was he this time around?_

_There were many lives he had lived; his soul splitting to make these new lives from the original one. He had been alive in all races at some point, and had been able to see the horrors firsthand._

_This was his doing, all of it._

_And the worst part was that they held out hope to have it fixed when it couldn't._

_"I'm so sorry," he would whisper when he was hanging in limbo._

_It wasn't like anyone would ever hear it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the positive feedback on this story! Just letting you all know that I will be updating less and less until May, so bare with me okay?
> 
> Ragehappy Mavin Fan  
> (A.K.A Rhohel_of_the_Shire)


	4. A Haunted Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Company has a leader with no sense of direction. Just like the Company that preceded it in the Ages before. Well, she picked the best spot to hunker down for the night. In the middle of Eriador's most haunted providence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I hope you guys enjoy! I haven't been updating much but I plan to start doing so more during the fall.
> 
> Paring: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
> 
> Rating: T
> 
> The Hobbit belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.

_**I remember how it all started, and I couldn't help but to think maybe we deserved it at one point. I can't leave the land of all my mistakes, and it has been so long since I've eaten or drank normal foodstuffs. One ironic thing is that we still make wine in case the curse is gone, and I know that it will never end. It wasn't meant to end; it was meant for us to endure the punishment. Over the Ages I came to accept it as fact when others refused to do the same as I.  
** _

_**That doesn't mean I had to like it.** _

_**-Legolas Greenleaf, son of King Thranduil  
** _

_Taken from the personal journal of Prince Legolas Greenleaf, circa 2843 Fourth Age._

~.~.~.

Líska nearly growled at the horse next to her; she fucking hated horses with a burning passion. They were the worst things she ever laid eyes upon, even before she and the others came down with this horrid curse. They never seemed to like her then and they certainly don't like her now; if she could then she would ride her happy ass in a car or a motorcycle all the way home.

But no, Dís wanted to do it "the Traditional Way", and the princess snorted inelegantly as she saddled the horse up. And when it neighed she whispered, "Shut up Bill! I'm trying to put this Mahal forsaken saddle on!" A calm hand on her shoulder stopped her from further attempts and she turned to see William there with his own saddle thrown over his shoulder.

"Allow me Princess Líska," he said before softly patting the horse's head. The hobbit smiled gently at the horse before throwing her saddle over his back and carefully began to secure it onto Bill. "You have to be gentle with horses. These are of a particular Shire parentage and get easily frightened without a reassuring guide," he explained as the Princess nodded along.

William was able to help her strap her extra bags onto the saddle when he heard the others come out of the Prancing Pony. Both Gimli and Hofur were talking obnoxiously loud in Khuzdul, but this was not the modern Khuzdul he had listened to whenever he worked in the large office skyscrapers in Hobbiton. In fact he knew the modern version, but this dialect was much more aggressive and rough than he had ever heard before.

"Thank you Master Baggins," Líska smiled at him before mounting the horse.

He returned the gesture before heading over to his level headed Jessamine. William reached into his pocket and pulled out an apple for the mare with a whisper, "Tell no soul. Understood?" If anything the small nudge he got in the shoulder was worth giving up a part of what he suspected to be his rations. Though he had to say that he was more than happy to share with his mare.

A good horse was a happy horse.

Líska smiled at the sight as the other members of the Company struggling to try and control their own mounts; something about wildlife and them never really mixed anymore. She was fine with basking in their discomfort because there were more of them bitching than she was. Though she was told by Kíli that they would have cars or motorcycles if they wanted all the way to Rivendell.

Why the fuck did Dís have to chose fucking horses as their mode of transportation. It was times like this that she wished Fíli could be able to travel with her to these distance lands and see the things she had seen. Pictures that she brought back just weren't enough and she could see the yearning on his face when she showed him the beach side resorts and the beautiful grassy plains of Rohan.

He was truly stuck in such a desolate region, while she went gallivanting across Arda.

This time Líska had gotten him and Kíli some souvenirs from Bree and Hobbiton saved up and after that she hoped that they would be able to stop in Moria before heading straight to Erebor. Though the chances of that happening were slim since the Eastern countries still hadn't gotten around to using the credit and paper money that the West used.

"Everyone round up!" and she was knocked from her thoughts by Dís and urged Bill towards the others. Her anger was palatable when the horse tried its damnest to go the opposite way. William smiled as he went past her and grabbed the reigns as he did so; his gentle urging got Bill to move with him and Jessamine. Líska sighed as the damned horse trotted forward with William. "We leave now! Since things aren't the way that we used to travel, we must go through the back roads and countryside rather than follow the main roads. So that also means," and she looked at William pointedly, "That there is no more ACs or any type of comfort."

"We know that! Lets get on with it! I don't want to be on this horse any longer than needed," Bayar commented.

Dís shook her head and urged Bungo forward; they were going to have to make their way through the main roads before going to countrysides just like Dís planned. Her face was held high and proud as the hobbits and humans watched them make their way through the center of town. For William it was most embarrassing when he could see some of the people he had went to school with whisper and shake their heads at him. For the others it was just another town that they would not see for the next decade or so.

As the pace was set for the first leg of their journey, William had decided to settle back and watch the others interact. Líska (when Bill began to listen to her) had gravitated towards Arndí, Gliah, and Gimli. They were family and despite Líska being related to Dís by marriage, she was still a little burnt that they weren't using a modern transportation system. Hell, it would be nice to cut down a month or two of travel on Inter-Providence Travel System, then it would be traversing over the little rivers and mud fields of the backwoods country.

Hadvor, Halina, Bayar, and Hofur were all clumped up together and speaking in rapid Ancient Khuzdul; each one of them had their own stances on how they felt about William. The hobbit was sure that at least Hofur was on his side and didn't mind that the hobbit was there. Both Kori and Hjalli were conversing with one another while Dís and Gandalf were bickering over something in the same Ancient dialect he didn't know.

He was alone in the back of the pack and was content to be there; it gave him time to think on the relationship between him and the Company of Dís.

It was no secret there that a lot of them were unhappy to see that he was going to be traveling with them for a long while. His faults were many but personally he had done nothing to offend them in his lifetime. Also the semi-awareness of living more than once and not going to the Green Gardens was continuously hanging on him and the guilt that some of the Company tried to throw on him.

There was just a lot to take in at this time and the added stress on what could have been an okay relationship was pushing William to parts of his mind that he didn't want to visit again.

On the flip side he was happy that Líska was more than willing to get to know him; and he had that gut feeling that Kori and Arndí were leaning towards him also. Though they were more concerned with how to approach him rather than trying to get to know him. His sensibilities were bristling at the cultural slight, but he was a grown hobbit now. Not the tween that couldn't handle such public shaming and took such drastic measures.

William could prevail; he had to do it. He had come so far in life and there was no reason for him to just crumble under the expectations now.

Mindlessly he followed the Company; his mind stuck in days far gone and a life that he didn't live. His green eyes were slightly glazed over as he was trapped within his thoughts of people he once knew.

_His first time in Rivendell had been magical and Bilbo couldn't help but to look like a starstruck fauntling. The bright green eyes were wide in wonder and he took in all the amenities that he hadn't been able to enjoy for a while. The tall buildings towered over him just as the other elves and dwarves around him; he looked to Thorin who was more worried about the fact that he was in a valley full of elves.  
_

_Then a loud horn sounded through the valley and Bilbo was flung backwards into the Company._

_"Must you be so dramatic Thorin?"_

_"When it concerns you, yes."_

"Master Baggins? Or you okay?"

The hobbit in question raised his head and blinked rapidly as Gandalf hovered around him worriedly. His green eyes were wide when he realized where and when he was, "You know Gandalf, I'm getting tired of this."

The elder man rolled his eyes and asked, "Why is that my dear boy?"

William looked over in Dís's direction and sighed out, "It means that she's right." His forehead wrinkled up as he tried to concentrate on the memories that were now eluding him. William truly hated this; his mind was only focused on now and not then, and the fact that Dís would be right about all those things she had first yelled about in Bag End.

"Right about what?"

He huffed through his nose before looking at Gandalf very pointedly, "That this might be all of my fault. Every little hardship that happened to them ever since my last life was all my fault. That their way of life is now forever gone."

"Oh William, you got it all wrong my dear boy," Gandalf began, "There is one thing that you are correct about. Their lifestyle and traditions are gone, but they would have gone over time anyways. In your first life it was forbidden for people to learn Khuzdul that were not of the dwarven race, now any can learn it. Some things were meant to happen, whether it be by your hand or fate's. But believe me when I say that you are not at fault for what has happened, if anything it was I that caused all this to happen."

William scoffed at the wizard and Gandalf elaborated, "Twas I that sent Thorin Oakenshield on his quest and even after I was not there to ensure that the quest was properly done. I was personally responsible for your previous death, I pushed you to go and even when I thought you weren't going to follow you did."

His once friend smiled sadly before asking, "Then how was I able to curse those people? I'm sure that no hobbit has that power."

Gandalf shook his head and reached into his cardigan's pocket, pulling out a bag of pipe weed and the matching pipe and lighter. "I've lived longer than most elves and even I know not the answer to that question."

Large feet urged Jessamine forward and William discreetly wiped a tear from his face.

"Neither do I."

He wanted to know how Bilbo Baggins gained that power, but as of right now William Baggins was more concerned about the fact that half of the Company hated him.

~.~.~.

William felt the dark, ominous feeling before he saw the looming trees rise over the rolling hills; and he must have inhaled sharply enough for Hofur to hear him because the dwarf turned to look at him.

"Anything wrong?" he asked and William nodded, "Well. Go on with it."

"We shouldn't be here," and Hofur raised an eyebrow.

Hadvor and Gimli couldn't help their curiosity, "And why is that?"

The hobbit looked around and noticed that all of the Company was looking at him, wondering what was wrong with the hobbit now. He gulped and licked his lips. "Well, I uh. I don't know where you think we are going Lady Dís, but we are going the wrong way," and he winced when all the dwarves began to put in their two cents.

Gandalf looked around and nodded with William, "Good eye William. I didn't even notice it."

"Notice what Tharkun?" Dís gritted out as she and Gliah went over the maps.

"Well, we've been going the wrong way of course!"

It got so quiet that William could hear a pin drop or a fly's wing fluttering. He had only a second before Dís leveled him with a fierce glare, and he noticed that there were some dwarves that did the same. He sighed, they would never like him. "Care to explain why you haven't said anything Master Baggins?" she asked.

"I was thinking, and I just felt the pure...evil from this place. We need to leave, or something! Anything other than stay here!" William protested. Some of the other dwarves rolled their eyes, and William shook his head at them in disbelief. "We need to go," and he was beginning to sound hysterical.

Hofur began to get concerned for William, "Calm down and just tell us why."

"Because they say that the Witch King of Angmar rests here, waiting for the...the-"

"The what Master Baggins?" Bayar asked him.

He looked wretched as they all pressed him for more information, "The One Ring. For Sauron." It took Dís about a second to process what he was saying and then she burst into laughter. "It's not something to laugh about! He has been there for Ages! I mean this- this!" he yelled, gesturing out to the Old Forest, "Is the reason why the Shire is one of the most haunted places in Eriador!"

"Sounds like a bunch of poppy-cock if you asked me," Halina joked, but they all noticed how serious Gandalf was.

Dís shook her head and dismounted her horse, "We make camp here." Almost immediately both William and Gandalf began to voice their disapproval as the others got off their mounts. Líska looked apprehensive at making camp there in the shadows of such an evil place; it was only that Arndí that was able to get her down.

"You're making a big mistake, besides I have a vacation house here in Buckland," William said but Dís was stubborn.

"I said _halfling_ we make camp here," and with her last piece in the conversation (if you could even call it that) she turned on her heel and began barking orders at the others. The hobbit was practically glowing with rage as she sent him out with Líska to fetch some firewood. The young princess tried to reassure him that Dís was just tired and snapped at him in frustration.

"No, she hates me," he lamented.

"She hates a lot of people. Life hasn't been easy for her," Líska said.

"Life hasn't been easy for a lot of people Líska, though most tend to better themselves from their suffering."

When she dwelled on his statement it opened her eyes a little; while they had been suffering, there was ample opportunity for the people of the East to help themselves. None ever thought to look up from their own and into the possibilities presented; she was one of them. Hell, every single person past Mirkwood cared only for themselves.

She had been so sure that they found Bilbo's reincarnation to help everyone at first, but as the days got longer and weeks without her Fíli, there was a doubt in her mind. It was becoming clear why the Company had decided to find William; Líska never wanted to see it before. Whether or not William intended for her to think this hard on his one little sentence, she did. She thought and thought as the two of them gathered fallen branches.

The East didn't have to be underdeveloped, nor did they have to be this barbaric. All they had to do was pull their head out of their asses and smell the fucking roses.

She sighed, "You're right."

William looked up from his small pile, "Pardon?"

"You're right William, completely right." Líska grunted as she hefted her wood onto her right shoulder before turning to look at him. "I'll be the first to say it to you, but I'm a selfish bitch. We all are, and to put you in that place was unfounded of us."

The hobbit just gave her a small smile, "Thank you Líska, but you are just as victimized as any in the East. I'll do it then I'll go home, but hopefully we may become friends."

"Of course we will William, of that I have no doubt."

"Come on, we got to get back before Dís throws another fit."

The silence that settled over both Líska and William was by no means awkward, companionable actually, and every now and then Líska would tell him about Fíli. How he was possibly the best husband a woman could dream of, or that he had done some weird prank on her birthdays in the years before. From his smile to his hair, she thought that everything about him was perfect.

It was refreshing for William, because the topic of family was one that all hobbits loved to talk about. All of the dwarves had their families with them in some way; leaving him and Gandalf as the outliers of the group. They were just walking back into camp as Líska started another story on how Gimli got caught with both Kíli and Fíli cutting a hole into the seat of Thorin's chair at their breakfast table. Of course this prompted Gimli on getting the story revised and he bantered with Líska.

"I never did tha'! You were the one tha' organized the damned thing!"

"Now, now, what would I gain from such a prank?"

"To see the King crawlin' around like a damned turtle so he can get the bloody chair off his arse!"

William laughed with the others as he set to making the fire; the dried leaves he put under the smaller tree branches caught fire quickly. The lighter he may or may not have stole from Aragorn was quickly shoved back in his pocket as Dís glared at him. He could hear her mumble under her breath about the 'halfling that can't even make a damn fire on his own'.

As the fire roared to life, he sat next to Gandalf and chatted with him as the older man shared some rations with him. The dwarves passed around a rather large canteen among their respective families, and he sat there in ignorance. Not even daring to think that they drank blood so freely. He wouldn't think about it; it went against his morals to just let them drink it, but he was just there.

Yavanna help him; he was really doing this.

Despite the good cheers that were going around in the campsite, William could feel the darkness swirl around them. Never once stopped as the air became more and more oppressive to the hobbit. The only one that noticed that something was wrong with William was Gandalf; that was partially because he could feel the same thing.

This place was truly cursed.

Dís and her Company were aware of how right William was later; the wind picked up as the group got their equipment out to sleep. William grimaced when the bitter wind blew out the fire he had made. The warmth was gone from his veins and the darkness took over their campsite. At first a lot of the dwarves tried to ignore it and go to sleep, but sat up in alarm as whispers started to fill their ears.

Frightened, William quickly clapped his hands over his ears and let out a scream; his sensitive ears picked up what the dwarves perceived as whispers. "William? Are you okay?" but he didn't hear Líska at all. Gandalf walked over to where William was and shook him desperately; trying to get him to come back to his senses.

"What is wrong with the halfling?" Dís asked, pushing away the thoughts of the wealth and prosperity that plagued her. The Dragon Sickness that had afflicted her bloodline; the one that they thought was gone was now back with a vengeance. Whatever was in the forest was affecting her in the worst of ways, and she thought that maybe she should have listened to William.

Gandalf tried to pry his hands away from his ears, but the second that he tried William let out another scream.

"I DON'T HAVE IT!"

Silence was bearing down on the Company as they listened to William's screams and babbles.

"I DON'T OWN A RING! STOP! PLEASE!"

Gandalf muttered under his breath and the insects in the night's air began to glow; letting the Company see how wretched William was. The hobbit was gasping on the ground, trying to get his breath. His toes were curling as he balled in on himself, but his eyes were the worst. With no contacts in, they could see the pain and hopelessness in his eyes. Tears stained his cheeks as he let out another wail, his eyelids closing tightly as droplets streamed down his face.

"I'M NOT BILBO!"

Líska closed her eyes and then called out, "Just knock him out already! Let him out of his misery!"

A small laugh came from William as he looked up at the dwarves surrounding him, "You'll never be able to go back to normal. Not while it exists and I exist." Gandalf frowned as the hobbit looked over to him and smirked. "You will fall, and I will walk Arda once more!" he broke off into laughter and with a quick strike to his temple, William was out cold.

Carefully, Gandalf was able to get him into his sleeping bag as the group visibly relaxed. "He warned you Dís, he truly did. Maybe next time you'll heed a warning, even at the sake of your pride. I know that many here would have loved a nice warm bed to sleep in, but a vacation house was going too far according to you," he nearly hissed at her.

"As if I knew what would happen!"

"Be as it may, William is no doubt experiencing things he'd rather forget. And he has you to thank," he said, "Well? You wanted to camp here. So retire for the night, I will take watch."

One by one, the dwarves went to their respective sleeping bags; leaving Kori to drag Dís to her own bag. The mother of three gave her a small smile before going to cuddle up with Hjalli. Her thoughts were tumultuous as she pressed her face into the crook of Hjalli's neck.

She had seen that kind of pain reflected in her own children's eyes before; how her sweet Ori begged to die or how Nori and Dori carried themselves everyday. Neither drinking enough to keep them sane, to keep the hunger at bay; for the sake of their morals. Though she had shoved the copious liquid down their throats; only to see them glare at her in anger. To see them hurt themselves because of it.

If Hjalli had felt her tears, he said nothing but he held her close to him.

Maybe he had been harsh on William, but all he had to go on was that his past life caused this to happen. His assumptions were unfounded and he knew that he would have to apologize eventually. Even though Hjalli was sure that William didn't hear what he had to say about him; it would be the right thing to do. It would be a start to make a friend and fixing his broken marriage.

The sounds of Hadvor's snores filled the air and lulled him to sleep.

All waited for what the morning would bring.

~.~.~.

_"Thorin, please- I"_

_"I want none of your pathetic excuses, halfling. Go, and be with the men and elves you love so."_

_"No! I did this for you!"_

_"Thorin no don't-" but whomever cried that out was too late. Bilbo screamed as his arm was wrenched from its socket and his feet left the safety of the stone. Hands grabbed at him, and he at them; though it didn't matter seeing as none ever got their intended target. The faces of all his friends were becoming smaller as he fell, and he felt it before he saw it.  
_

_Bilbo cried out in pain as his arm broke easily underneath him; the cries were promptly silenced when his head hit the ground. His eyelids were clamped down in pain as he fought to stay conscious. When he gave in to the pain and fell unconscious, Bilbo felt no better. Though, when his eyes opened he wasn't at the bottom of the makeshift barracks._

_In fact, his name wasn't even Bilbo._

_William yawned as he swung his legs over the edge of his bed; the morning was bright and cheery. He rubbed the sand from his eyes before he went to the kitchen to get some water. The familiar curved hallways took him past the family room; his father was still sitting in his chair with his head down. William smiled at him and walked over to Bungo._

_"Dad. Dad wake up-" and he fell back on his ass in shock._

_Martin 'Bungo' Baggins had blood dribbling out of his forehead from a rather large gash; that alone shouldn't have been lethal but the slit throat was. Bile rose up in William's throat and he ran to his parents' room. "Mom! Mom!" but his mother wasn't answering him. She was still in her bed but the same thing that happen to Bungo happened to her._

_He couldn't breathe._

_"Air, I need air," but no amount of air could help him now. William gave his mother another look and promptly vomited; his mind was desperately trying to catch up with what he was seeing. He just couldn't breathe and got light headed.  
_

_When he woke up next, he was all alone. Just floating in the dark._

_"You can save us Will."_

_Isabella 'Bella' Baggins was whispering sweet promises into his ears; telling him that they could be a family once more. All he had to do was listen to her and William would have, gladly, but something was wrong. "Just tell me where the Ring is love. I know you have it Will," she said, "Just tell me where you've hid it."_

_"Tell Mommy."_

_"Where is it sweetie?"_

_"Mommy knows you have it," but no matter what Bella said, he knew the truth._

_William didn't have the Ring she wanted._

_"I DON'T HAVE IT!" he screamed._

_The apparition of his mother melted away and was replaced with his father; he was suddenly filled with overwhelming guilt as his father shook his head at him. The rotund hobbit had a keen way of getting William to feel guilty for his actions. It was a father thing, Bungo had claimed when he was alive._

_"Why are you lying to me Will? We know you have the Ring."_

_"I DON'T HAVE A RING! STOP! PLEASE!"_

_Yes, he wanted them to stop pretending to be his parents. He couldn't stand to see the sight of his parents become so...so perverted. The happy memories that the family had culminated seemed wrong now. "Now Bilbo, didn't anyone tell you it was wrong to lie?" his father vanished from his sight. The bodiless voice was talking to him; calling him both Bilbo and William._

_Chills ran down his back and he maneuvered his body to turn around; only to come face to face with a giant glowing eye. The cat like pupil was surrounded by an iris that looked like it was on fire._

_It was wrong._

_It was evil._

_"Wha-?" he cut himself off when his body jerked in an inhuman way. The eye charged at him and William could feel himself talking; but he couldn't hear it. The thing was using him to communicate with others but there was no one near him._

_He wanted to wake up; to be rid of this horrible dream._

When William did wake up he wasn't alone; although his head was killing him. "Sweet Yavanna," he croaked, trying his best to sit up. The first person he saw was Gandalf sitting on a log and smoking his pipe. His mumblings broke the old man from his musing and he rushed over to William when he saw him struggle to sit up straight.

"What happened?"

Gods, his head was really hurting; his hand clutched at his face while the other supported him. What had happened to him? The vivid dream that he had had began to melt away from his memories. "I-I don't know, what happened to me?" he asked Gandalf.

The Man just sighed and shook his head, "You fainted, my boy. Gave me quite a scare."

"This place is haunted for a reason!"

"Well, there is still some hours until daybreak. Care to join me?"

While the last couple of days had been quite tumultuous; William found a nice pocket of time to wind down. The dreams didn't affect him, he wasn't thinking hard on his last life, and Dís wasn't bitching at him. This was by far the best morning since he wound up in the Grey Havens. William just wanted to soak in all the peace that he felt.

The best part was when the sun broke the horizon; highlighting all the pastures and rolling fields, he took a picture with his camera. Of course he accidentally woke Jessamine up to do it, but he could only see the look of happiness on Bell's face when he would bring them back to her.

However there was one thing that he couldn't forget.

The eye that blazed ever so bright with power.

~.~.~.

In his long life he had seen evil rise and kingdoms fall. Never once did he do a thing to help the conquest of other lands, nor did he defend the champions of good. He simply existed in his own woods; living his endless life without any sort of emotion. The one time he ventured forth from his own lands to help another; he and his kingdom had paid the ultimate price.

For what? A bunch of fucking gems that didn't reflect the light of his late wife's eyes.

His son was listless, withering away in the small confines of the East; while he was more than content to stay in his woods. Legolas was a shining star that dimmed as it got older.

He felt that letting the Prince roam the East would be good enough in the beginning, after a fateful attempt for the West. That try for the border had led to half of Legolas's squad bursting into dust.

Shimmering dust that blew away in the wind.

When they found this out, the knowledge was spread around the East quickly.

Though, he could feel that a tide was turning; that change was coming and soon. "Tauriel, go get Legolas," he ordered from his high throne. A silent red head shifted through the shadows towards Legolas's room.

He, Thranduil Oropherion, could just _feel_ the opportunity on the wind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter done! Thank you guys for supporting this story! I actually took a shit ton of time planning out the first ten chapters. For once planning shit out.
> 
> Ragehappy Mavin Fan  
> (A.K.A. Rhohel_of_the_Shire)


	5. A New View

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which William sees things in a new view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the love! Seriously you guys are awesome!
> 
> Paring: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
> 
> Rating: T
> 
> The Hobbit belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.

_**I never knew my Uncle Bilbo, Mama and Papa would talk about him sometimes. Never in public's eye and always in the cover of dark with their roof over their head. He was different, someone I could respect. But they say he left chasing dwarves and his dream, and Lobelia would look at me and ask some time after Mama and Papa died.** _

_**"Do you want to be another Mad Baggins? You have two good legs, get up and keep walking."** _

_**And I did.** _

_-Found from the private journals of Head of the Baggins Clan, Frodo Baggins_ **CIRCA T.A.** _  
_

~.~.~.

William was given a wide berth ... again. He didn't mind that some were ignoring them of their own volition but he was pissed that Dís would call Líska away from him. The younger princess also looked angered but her loyalty demanded that she join her leader (and mother-in-law)'s side. It hurt that he was being shunned so badly, but he was stronger than that.

He had been hated before, and he would live through it again.

His only companion for a couple of days was Gandalf, the older man was happy to talk with William about literature or history. In that small time the hobbit had learned all about the different lost cultures and the various dialects of men that had disappeared from the planet. The ways of life that he had been told of about hobbits were gone and the benevolent people had twisted just as the other races did.

Of how his people were forced to evolve and mechanize in order to have a pace in the world.

Then William was told the story of Belladonna Took, one that supposedly was passed down in Gandalf's lineage.

"The man whom I am named after was said to be a wizard, my great something grandfather was wandering down into the rolling hills of the Shire. A country of sorts in its own back then, filled with xenophobic people. Good people, that were afraid of the world around them. So they were anxious around my relative, filled with a twisted excitement when he came strolling down the Shire's lanes.

A wee lass that was filled out the only way a woman could be was only as tall as his waste line. The one thing he said to the favorite daughter of the then Old Took was the only person willing to see the world for its beauty. I - I remember that he was ill prepared to take a hobbit lass on a journey, her eagerness was outweighed by the love she had for a man named Bungo Baggins. Your many great grandfathers away dear William," the man winked as he stopped to drink water from a hip flask.

Or William thought it was water.

"This Bella was desperately in love with the world and a man. She chose the man but Bungo let her explore to her heart's delight. So she left the comforts of her home to go have an adventure.

Oh, the way mother described it was beautiful. A blossoming friendship between an old wizard and a hobbit, oh William they went everywhere they could within reason. From Rivendell to Gondor, they came and went trading both time and resources to those that had neither. However things went sideways on the way back to the Shire."

He stopped for a second to take a drag from a cigar and to wipe away a tear from his eye, or William thought he did, before composing himself to tell the rest of the tale. His attentive audience of one listening very closely for this piece of his ancestry. "Go on," William prompted when Gandalf refused to keep talking.

"Ah yes, Belladonna had been scouting the area before resting for the night as the wizard instructed her to. Never once did she think that there could be something in the woods watching her. While the wizard went to secure food for the two of them, Belladonna had been brutally attack by wargs-"

"Wargs don't exist anymore Gandalf, they evolved into the creatures know as canis latrans. Or rather coyotes, it seems as if they got the better end of evolution when comparing them to old drawings of wargs."

When William looked back at Gandalf he grew sheepish that the man had raised an eyebrow at him, as if to ask if he could get on with his tale. "Anyways, she was able to fend for herself for a while. Only a while, she was too used to the wizard to help her and eventually her own strength failed her. Belladonna fell by the time that the wizard got to her.

Belladonna lived, only since the elves from Rivendell happened upon her and the wizard during their hunt of the orcs. She, like all things, recovered in time but it was believed that she would never be the same. So I - I believe that the wizard returned her to the Shire and left, coming back twice in the Third Age. Once when she was a young mother with a child of only five years, and then when that same child was in his fifties. One was for a party and the other was for an adventure.

And just like mother, the son went along with the wizard. But unlike his mother, he never returned to the Shire and his remains lay in the East to this day."

The old man took a drag from his pipe as William took in all of this, "His name."

"Hmm?"

"What was the child's name?"

Gandalf hummed in concentration for a second before opening his mouth, "Bilbo Baggins was his name." William could only let his jaw drop before Gandalf gave him a pat on the back before pushing his horse into a trot to catch up to Dís. The hobbit's soul felt the longing it felt at the mention of Belladonna Took's story; it felt as if it were his mother that he had just heard about.

But his own mother was buried in the Under-hill Cemetery, while Belladonna Took was most likely returned to the Green Lady's Earth in the long years after her death. For William, it's helping him in a weird sort of way; because the more he was getting exposed to the idea of being Bilbo the more he felt whole. It was as if he was an amnesiac that was coming to terms with his new identity and the old one he had.

The shock wore off and William allowed himself to truly think about his own life.

He had loved his own mother dearly but her end was just as gruesome as the old Took woman's had been, leaving him to wonder about the parallels between the two. "Ah! Master Baggins!", and William turned to see both Kori and Hjalli waving him over. With a nod to Gandalf he steered Jessamine over to the couple, a little wary because he had been called over after days of silence.

Kori smiled at the hobbit brightly, something that William had never been victim to. She smiled and smiled before opening her mouth, "So I've heard from a little birdie that you are a fan of ancient literatures. Am I correct Master Baggins?"

The hesitation in his eyes concerned Hjalli, who stayed silent, as William answered his wife, "Yes, and if I may Mistress Kori it is William. Master Baggins was my father, but yes. I do enjoy good literature."

He smiled briefly when Kori began to bounce slightly on her stead, "Well, in my home I was able to procure various copies of tomes from the Third Age. As in the actual journal from the Journey to Erebor."

"How? There is only one authentic copy left!" he gasped in astonishment.

"Exactly, completed with drawings and some water damage from the High Pass."

The brunette was more than happy to talk to a willing participant about her son's writings, or rather a person that didn't hear her praises for the last three Ages. It was refreshing to see someone interested in her sons. Her husband was beaming as well as his horse threw its head back, the hair catching him in the mouth. Though he looked sheepish to William, he was reeling in disgust.

Animal parts were not that receptive to his tastes, in fact it was all he could do to keep from gagging. It was repulsive but he laughed it off with William as to not alarm him. He didn't want to out himself this early in front of him, but eventually he'll be wary of the fact that none of them will be eating.

"Bad horse," he called out only for it to smack his head back again.

Hjalli glared at the beast as it shifted uneasily beneath him, "Oh what I would give for a car. A nice car, one that doesn't breathe or have hair." Oh, a three day car trip from the Shire Providence to the edge of Eriador to the Eastern Kingdoms and Municipalities would be ideal. Though, Dís was a stickler for tradition and even got Thorin's backing for it.

The King hoping that the reincarnation would like them well enough by the time they got to Erebor after a couple months, then BAM! shit would be better for them all. Hjalli had to give it to him though, it was a nice and peaky plan. Even better then his plan to prank Villi all that time ago, which ended up with Thorin chasing Kíli as a babe. Running down the paths in Ered Luin. Nude.

"Me too Hjalli, if we could I'd have us rent some cars then travel over the High Pass on the International Highway. Besides, I was given a letter from Prince Kíli before I left for Bree. Hell I even called him, and I was told that we were to ride in cars until we got to Rivendell," William murmured as Jessamine stopped to nibble at some tall grass.

"I guess that it was sort of bait. We all knew that we would be on horses the entire time."

Kori watched as the hobbit shook his head, "I'm not that surprised William, and I don't think you are either."

"I'm sort of used to new stipulations and secrets, not that much of a surprise to me now. There's even somethings I know of you lot that I wish I didn't."

"Oh?" and Hjalli leaned forward slightly, both nervous and excited.

William nodded, "I never saw it at the time, I was too focused on my own being to care what she was saying. Dís, I mean. She kept telling me about her brother, and how I knew him in my last life." He took in a breath as the married couple nodded in confirmation. "And when I was younger I did my own research on my ancestry, you know. Bilbo Baggins was the second owner of my ancestral home Bag End, and he died in the late Third Age. If she knew Bilbo, then she would be practically immortal now."

The brunette was silent as was Hjalli and William took this as his chance to keep talking, "And some asshole left coagulated blood in a cup on my table. I assume that someone was drinking it."

"Go on," Kori encouraged the hobbit, "Just tell us what you're thinking William."

"At the very least, Dís is some kind of immortal vampire and some of this company might be as well."

" ... " Hjalli was in a stump, "Well shit, observant little shit are you?" Then he broke out into a smile and steered his horse closer to William; throwing an arm around his shoulders. "Got a smart noggin dontcha? Well, lets just say that me 'n Kori aren't that different from Dís, since she had been born in Erebor and we weren't," he whispered as the other dwarves in front of them started to laugh uncontrollably. "And if you ask me, these asshats just don't like you for the same reason as Dís. But as her brother-in-law I have a leg up in what can go and what can stay."

William shoved Hjalli's arm off his shoulders and tried not to let his grimace out.

"Besides," Hjalli said as he pulled out a hip flask and took a swig, "I don't drink alcohol and neither does she."

Over Hjalli's shoulder Kori gave him a smile and licked the red from her teeth.

Despite this William has never felt safer.

~.~.~.

"SHIT!"

"That's mine fucker! Give it back!"

"No! You had a separate tumbler for this one! Unfair!"

"Kíli! Give it back!"

A lone figure sat on his throne as his nephews bickered around him, just after the last of the court left the room. Despite their old age both Fíli and Kíli still acted like the dwarves he had brought on his quest to Erebor all that time ago. He was glad that their wisdom and ... affliction could be tempered by their very nature.

Thorin Oakenshield had lasted longer then he had wanted in the world, as had many others in the Eastern Kingdoms and Municipalities. Hell, anyone west of Rhûn and east of Eriador had unusually long life spans. Not a single bloodline was passed from the Eastern K & M's since late Third Age and early Fourth Age.

It made them an anomaly, something to be studied as time passed.

Being the opportunist that he was, whenever Gimli or Bombur's twins sent word of a new study being conducted anywhere in the Eastern K & Ms there was always a scouting party sent out by him. He sought to secure food for those in Erebor that were unable to or unwilling to procure their own. In fact the last fresh food supply had been taken by the Men of Dale, and it meant that the Feeding Roster had to have more names added.

The Company of Thorin Oakenshield were always the last to be fed as far as the public access was concerned, but their family and friends were sneaky when it came to feeding the original Aggressors. Dís and Líska were able to keep the Durin males sane, were as Fundin's sons were left to their Hunger. The Ri Family was in their own sort of madness and fuck if the Ur Family didn't know how to change a shit situation into a better one.

But, as Fíli and Kíli spend their own shares of the Treasure, when Dís and Líska were gone, they tried to keep illegally procured blood from coagulating. For the most part they did it, but they had trouble rationing the amount they had with their Hunger. Kíli would drink all of his and take some of Fíli's flasks from their joint (well Fíli got another for himself) tumbler.

"Boys," and both glared when he reached his hand out for the flask, but they gave it to him. He opened the top and took a swig before paling, "It may have sat for too long, have fun with your jelly." Outraged Fíli stole the metal back and groaned when he shook it slightly.

The blood had turned to the consistency of the cottage cheese he had once upon a time in Bilbo's home.

Thorin pushed the crown on his head so it was centered and looked at his nephews, "Come, let's return home." As they began the walk from the Throne, panels and panels of mirrors overhead began to retract on themselves. Dimming the light used from the bright Arkenstone, the retreating mirrors had caused the Throne Room to darken slowly as the Arkenstone's light wasn't being refracted any more.

The Inner Palace was the most traditional part of the Kingdom, it used the light from small openings in the mounted side in the multitude of reflections. Spreading the light until it became dim, but still lit enough for dwarves and men to navigate through. This was the mountain that Thorin loved from his childhood, the one that kept him from giving up during his Journey.

Gold veins spread across the polished stone, as the gold running through his mind.

Not tangible, anymore at the least, but the beautiful spun gold of his brother's hair. Even that of Bilbo's when the light hit it just right, that was the sickness he had been plagues with for so long. After the treasure hoard lost its appeal Thorin had come to covet the gold that he could never hold again. Or at least the one that he thought he would never see again.

But, as time went on and technology advanced farther and faster then he had ever seen, he came to see the gold again.

Halina had become infatuated with the idea of instant portraits and, as a gift to Bombur, left Erebor for a year to go and photograph the world for him to see once more. In a picture from Lothlórien, at the funeral pyre of a little elfling that met her end too early was the body of said child. With the gold spun locks of his beloved.

Then Líska had seen the likeness of Bilbo Baggins when she was traveling past Rhûn. A man with a family, a human with most of Rhûn under his thumb, but kind when interacting with the princess. Allowing for the peaceful interaction leading to the first time electricity being introduced to the Eastern K + M. When he had died it had been many years before another Golden One to appear.

The reincarnations were spread throughout the world, but never once did they appear in the East.

None of them were like Bilbo, not until Gimli had told him about William Baggins.

So, he had spent his time making sure that his Kingdom was ready for him. The modern amenities that William would be used to were not there necessarily, Erebor had no outlets in the Inner Palace. The phone lines were abundant, however, they were limited by the simple fact that there was no way to get wireless connection throughout the inside of Erebor. Dale and Esgaroth were fine in those terms, but he refused to defile the sanctity of the mountain in that way.

Thorin did know that the ancient plumbing system that Dain had helped to fix before he was cursed as well still held up. And the heat from the High Forges and the Lower Forges kept the majority of the mountain warm in the winter, before the sub-surface vents were covered again as summer started and the surface vents were opened.

It was ancient and traditional, not modern but it worked for the dwarves of Erebor.

He loved his mountain, but he hated that he couldn't leave the land it was in.

"I wonder how Líska's doing, she has trouble using those cellular phones no matter what Gimli does."

"She's got a good head on her Fíli, better than most."

The two princes chatted aimlessly as a page came running down the hall, "Prince Kíli, the Liaison Tauriel requests your presence in the Royal Meeting Rooms. She has some news regarding the Golden One." That caught Thorin's attention immediately, but instead of rushing to the meeting rooms he kept walking away from the page.

Kíli was already moving from his brother and Uncle to the Meeting Room as the two kept going to Thorin's private rooms.

"She still won't talk to you Uncle. How long has it been?" Fíli asked, "About three- no four hundred years?"

"Yes, I don't see the problem truly. It was just one caravan, hardly overflowing. It smelt very much like troll, so we did her a favor."

"Uncle... you stole the kill right from under her nose."

"Just like her I have a people to feed."

Fíli rolled his eyes, "It was her five thousandth birthday." And Thorin was being a shit head and just smirked at him, and shrugged his shoulders as if to ask 'And should I care?'. "How am I going to put up with you?" Fíli asked.

"I think its the other way around inúdoy."

The blonde ran a hand through his braided mustache, the same he had in his youth, and walked on with his uncle. They passed the Consort's rooms without much fanfare, although Fíli knew that the room was aired and changed weekly. Lovingly kept modernized for the Golden One, for Bilbo or whomever he may be now.

It was heartbreaking to him, to watch his beloved uncle go insane from the years of longing.

While he had his own love, both Kíli and Thorin were struggling to find their own. His mother was a widow and there were some in the Company that never found their own love, much less thought about it.

"Of course uncle. Wouldn't have it any other way."

But they both know that they would have.

~.~.~.

He was tired, cold, and hungry; but there had been reports of Bard's son skulking around Mirkwood waiting. For what he had no clue, but the messenger ravens seen flying from the Misty Mountains gave some inclinations of what may be happening.

His father had grown tired of wondering and sent Tauriel to Erebor to try and get some insider information from the younger Prince. While she was being taken care of in a warm ass mountain he was freezing his ass off in a sniper's nest watching for the dumb kid. Bain wasn't the smartest Prince in the Eastern K + Ms, but damn this was stupid even for him.

The elves of Mirkwood were not above killing him too.

Legolas let his tired red eyes fall to the sweet receiver of his rifle and he smiled at the silver decal painted onto the green metal. The silver leaf marked that this rifle belonged to the Prince of Mirkwood, once Greenwood, and this was the one thing that he loved besides his ancient bow. That bow was made by his own unskilled hands and with his father's silvery hair as the draw string.

He watched the bushes rustle as the wind brushed through the land.

Once he knew this place as the greenest and purest place in Arda, he was named for the trees and to the trees he belonged. But the way that he lived to see his home grow sick was not the way that he wished to live. He wanted to heal his home, and to a degree he was able to.

This happened only after he had lost himself to this..affliction.

Legolas didn't care what anyone else called it: Hunger, Thirst, Vampirism. He knew it as one thing and one thing only, being a monster. The Valar were punishing them, and at the time he had been too loyal. Too greedy.

All he had wanted was to kill those dreaded orcs and get back to Mirkwood in one peace. Then he saw how the world had changed and how it needed help, but then the hobbit died. The singular hobbit east of the Misty mountains had been killed and buried in Erebor.

Of course he had been curious as to how he died but he didn't know Bilbo Baggins well enough to inquire.

Legolas was pulled from his thoughts as he heard the young human walk through the well used cobblestone path out of the Woods. He flicked the scope from the body of the gun upwards and looked through the sights. His heart slow as he fingered the trigger, eying the way that an assault rifle was held rather lazily in his hands.

The elf let his finger tighten and was satisfied to see the gun tumble from his hands as a bullet ripped through the stock of the weapon.

"Last warning Bain, go back to Dale."

Bain looked around him wildly, trying to find Legolas and finally found him when the Prince pulled away his cover and let his golden hair fall. "Why are you even here without the King's permission?" and the human glared at him. The two red eyes met the elven ones before the human looked away. Legolas let the scope fall back into the rifle and shouldered it.

"Come on Bain, this is the fifth time in the last three months."

"Tilda's getting restless again, she wants something. Anything to quench her thirst, and I want to help her."

Legolas smiled at the thought of the teenage looking Tilda, and groaned when he realized what Bain was doing. "The blood of the animals in the forest are not meant for consumption. We all know that. Bain, is there anyway for new blood to be expected?" He knew what he was asking and he knew that Bain understood what was being asked.

"Well..."

"Bain."

The human finally cracked, "I heard that Dís was going to bring new blood to the mountain, and I wanted to be the one to get it first."

No, she couldn't be going to take people from Eriador or Gondor. No one in the Eastern K + Ms could handle the isolation if word got back through to the authorities in the other kingdoms. If they suspected that there were people being taken from the countries then the borders would be closed until they all offered what others considered a "terrorist group" up as an explanation for the unexplained absences.

When in actuality it was the lowest vagrants they could find, a wandering group of Ironhill dwarves or Esgaroth criminals. But it would be too suspicious to send away elves or men of Dale. Some of the 'nicest' races in the east.

"Bain, you know the rules. No poaching on foreign land."

He had the gall to look ashamed before spluttering out, "Well Tilda's loosing it! She nearly killed Grima for 'just a taste Bain, don't tell Da'. What am I supposed to do Legolas? Leave her be?"

"No, you wait for new blood to show up in Dale."

"That could take months! Years even!"

The Prince sighed, "We've lasted decades, it hasn't bothered you before."

"I can't take much more of this! I'm just glad that this never happened to Sigrid."

Both pairs of red eyes locked onto each other and Legolas gave him a tired smile, "Me too Bain, me too."

Little did they know salvation was on the way, a little lost due to someone but on the way. If they didn't kill him first that is.

~.~.~.

_He lingered in the back of the poor hobbit's mind and flinched at the thought of going back to Erebor, but it wasn't him. Not really at least._

_There would be pain for William and for that he could only apologize._

_"I'm so sorry, please run away. Before they devour your heart too."_

_But there was no one to hear Bilbo plead, not even William. He wanted so bad to forgive them, to take all their pain back. Though he knew that deep down he held no forgiveness in his soul for them.  
_

_No matter how hard he tried._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Well, here's a new chapter but I'm not sure when the next one will be up. And if any of you follow Stories of Middle Earth, I'm so sorry for the wait but I'm trying to write at least five one-shots for that at once.
> 
> Ragehappy Mavin Fan  
> (A.K.A. Rhohel_of_the_Shire)

**Author's Note:**

> Again new story, but since I'm close to finishing Legend it's fine.
> 
> Ragehappy Mavin Fan  
> (A.K.A. Rhohel_of_the_Shire)


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